


Sugar Pills

by LeCheesie



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Angst, Control Kink, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, End game Otayuri, Fluff, I have no regrets, M/M, Pining, Rough Sex, Smut, There's A Lot Of Kinky Shit, Yuri gets hurt a lot I'm sorry, and a lot of sex, blow-jobs, idk i think it's my thing, it'll all be fixed eventually, lots of face-fucking, lots of smut, this is just basically porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-02-08 14:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 43,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12866019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeCheesie/pseuds/LeCheesie
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky spends most of his time procrastinating with homework or on his knees in his professor's office after school hours. He has no time for a job in between, and his parents refuse to give him a dime beyond paying his way through college. Mila directs him to a website where he can possibly find some answers to his problems.Or: An AU where Yuri fucks his teacher and winds up falling for his sugar daddy.





	1. Chapter 1

Yuri made a face, dropping his fork back into the container. “My noodles are soggy.”

“Maybe you should have eaten them instead of letting them sit for an hour.”

Yuri huffed. He was tired of microwaved 40 cent packages of instant ramen. He desired something more savory. The ramen flavor packets had more sodium content than he ever cared to ingest.

“I told you, I’m writing my thesis. I only have a week left. I have to write 90 pages. 90 fucking pages.” Yuri pushed the container away. The broth had soaked into the noodles, causing them to swell and look like earthworms. Salty earthworms.

“You can take a break, you’ve been at it for over four hours now.” Leroy pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, peeking over the book he was reading. Yuri tipped his head back and let out a yawn. He stretched his arms over his head and arched his back, akin to a cat waking from their nap.

“That’s rather funny coming from my professor.” Yuri snapped his laptop shut and crawled across the carpet. He was slow and predatory, like a tiger stalking its prey. Leroy watched him carefully, squinting his eyes when Yuri stopped at his feet. “What are you reading anyways?” Yuri breathed out, hands sneaking up Leroy’s pant legs. The familiar scratch of leg hair along his fingers made him smile. He gazed up at Leroy as he stroked along his calves, feeling the twitch of muscle beneath his fingertips.

“The history of something or other.” Leroy closed the book, Yuri’s smile growing. He sat up on his knees, pressing himself into Leroy’s shins. His hands slid over the fabric of Leroy’s pants, feeling the creases and folds with light touches.

“Hm.” Yuri walked his fingers along Leroy’s thigh. He was inching slowly towards his groin. He wanted to feel it beneath his palm, the heat, the hardness. The familiarity. Leroy caught both of his wrists, holding them in place. His demeanor was nonchalant, unbroken by Yuri’s ministrations. Yuri knew he had become accustomed to his games. He pouted.

“The more you tempt me, the harder it becomes for me to say no.” Leroy’s voice was low and smooth, always benevolent in his rejections.

“Then stop saying no.”

Leroy seemed to consider this a moment, but he shook his head and pursed his lips. Yuri was tiring of this. Leroy had fallen to his desires a mere week ago, after months of Yuri chasing him in a game of cat and mouse. They’d kissed and kissed, Yuri seeking purchase in Leroy’s hair, Leroy seeking purchase inside of him.

It had been hot and driven. There was no hand holding, no whispered promises. It had just been the steady slap of skin and Yuri’s unabashed moans floating around them. Yuri had gripped the desk beneath him, felt the bite of the edge with every thrust from behind. After, Yuri was left with the drying slick of cum on the small of his back and the regretful gaze from his professor. _We can’t do this again._

Yuri sighed. Leroy let his wrists loose. He was horny and tired. He wanted to fuck someone and go to sleep. He didn’t want to write this thesis, and he sure as hell didn’t want to eat another bite of salty chicken flavored ramen. He knew Leroy’s limits. He knew them like the back of his hand. He’d skirted along them and dipped his toes over the line many times until Leroy caved and gave him what he wanted.

God he wanted it again.

Yuri sat back on his haunches and pouted again. 

“Your face is going to become stuck like that.” Leroy pulled his glasses from his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”

Yuri ignored him and crawled back across the carpet to his spot on the floor. He pulled in a deep breath and held it a moment. He basked in the scent of Leroy’s small office. Old books, new books, polished leather, and the musky scent that was nothing less than the embodiment of Leroy.

Yuri let out the breath and flopped back onto the carpet on his stomach. His shirt rode up and the fibers bit his skin. “You need new carpet. This one gives rug burn.”

“Mm.” Leroy responded halfheartedly. Yuri snuck a glance from his laptop. Leroy was staring at him with a sparkle in his eyes. Yuri felt the heat of his gaze prick his skin and raise goosebumps. “I guess that nixes a lot of my ideas.”

Yuri opened his mouth. Then closed it. He tapped his fingers on the touchpad of his laptop. “What does that mean?”

Leroy didn’t respond, at least, not with words. He rose from his chair and smoothed his sweater. Yuri loved when he dressed like a teacher. It brought fantasies up from deep inside of him that he didn’t even know he had. He stood over Yuri expectantly, as if Yuri were to read his mind. Yuri must have because when he closed his laptop and slid it across the carpet, Leroy made a noise of approval. Yuri turned onto his back, propping himself up with his elbows.

Leroy’s lips were hard and unforgiving. He never gave any slack for Yuri to take over. He wanted Yuri to know that _he_ was in charge. That _he_ started this, and that _he_ would be the one to lead the way. Yuri gave himself over as he did the last time. He didn’t know what about Leroy made him want to become putty in his hands. He didn’t like being soft and pliant, but something in the way Leroy clasped his face with one strong hand and licked into his mouth made Yuri melt into him.

“I thought you said no.” Yuri whispered between kisses. Their breaths mingled together, full of their shared lust and desire. Leroy chased after Yuri’s lips like it would quench his extant thirst. Yuri fell into it, pushed over the edge. He allowed Leroy to grip his hair between his fingers, allowed him to unbutton Yuri’s jeans before loosening his own belt.

Leroy prepared Yuri with a quick tear of a condom package and the slick of lube. His fingers were rough and harsh, desperate with every movement.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Leroy whispered into the back of Yuri’s neck. Yuri hummed and pushed back against him. The obscene noises pouring from his lips almost drowned out the sound of Leroy’s belt tinkling as they fucked. The pleasure curled around him and threatened to break apart. The scrape of teeth against Yuri’s skin made his vision blur. The burst of pleasure with every touch of his prostate made his eyes water.

“Fuck,” Was all Yuri could muster, his fingers digging into the hard carpet, his muscles giving way to his orgasm. He came with a few tugs of his cock, heaving as he remembered to breathe. He flipped over to stare up at Leroy. His dark hair was flattened to his forehead, his eyes were flickering with a primal need. The primal need that Yuri had spurred inside of him.

“Kitten.”

“Mm?” Yuri tugged at Leroy’s hand. His cock was still hard and heavy, dripping beads of precome. “Fuck my face.”

Leroy succumbed, too caught in the throes of passion to protest. He ripped off the dirtied condom and crouched over Yuri’s face. He slipped between Yuri’s plush lips with ease. Yuri stared up at him, his fingers caressing the soft skin of Leroy’s balls. He let out a hum that made Leroy’s hips stutter.

“ _Kitten._ ” Leroy spoke with a tone of warning, his hips wavering as he fucked into Yuri’s mouth. He came faster than Yuri expected, making him choke as his eyes watered. He swallowed every drop.

_We can’t do this again._

Yuri rolled his eyes and went back to his thesis as Leroy picked up his _history about something or other_ book.

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

 

“ _Dad_ ,” Yuri huffed into the phone. He pulled his knees to his chest and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. He was perched on his dorm bed, books and papers cluttered across the comforter. The response he received made him flinch. “I _know_ you’re paying my way through college but I-” He was cut off. He bit his lip. “Okay.” He hung up and tossed his phone across the room with a growl.

“Daddy issues again?” The curt voice of his roommate cut into his haze of anger. He allowed his eyes to flick towards him. Yuri scowled.

“I just wanted something besides ramen for once. Ramen and cafeteria food are damaging to the soul.”

Georgi just stared at him, his eyebrows raised. Yuri knew that look. It was the _seriously, you’re the most privileged child I’ve ever met and you’re bitching about four years of ramen_ look.

“I lived off ramen my entire life. Ramen and TV dinners. I turned out just fine.” Georgi shot back. He went back to flipping through his magazine full of bright colors and half naked men sporting the fuckboy haircut to advertise some underwear. Or cologne. Who even bought magazines anymore? There were maybe three pages of actual content and the rest was made up of advertisements. Georgi probably liked staring at the half naked men more than he cared to admit though.

“I don’t think I would classify you as _just fine_ , but yeah sure, Romeo.” Yuri ignored the look he received in kind, trying to slip back into his paper. His paper that was due in less than a week. A paper he had written maybe half of, if he was being generous. _If I round up, I wrote half of it._

“I finished my thesis last month. You know, if you spent less time partying with that red headed girl you would probably have achieved a lot more.”

Yuri ignored him. He hadn’t really been partying with Mila. The burn on his knees reminded him of how many times he sucked Leroy’s cock in the dark of his office after school hours. His lips lifted into a smirk, remembering the secret between the two of them.

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

 

“How did it go?” Mila spoke around a mouthful of fries. Yuri crinkled his nose at her table manners. Rather, _lack of_ table manners.

“Fine.” Yuri glanced around the empty cafeteria, hoping to catch a glimpse of Professor Leroy. He ate lunch around the same time every day. He had pinpointed when the professor emerged from his office to grab a bite to eat.

Mila snapped her fingers in front of Yuri’s face, grounding him to the present. Her face was pinched. Her eyes flickered with knowledge, eyebrows raising with an unspoken _I know what you’re doing_.

“You know, fucking a professor won’t bring you a lot of money.”

Yuri growled a rainbow of insults under his breath. He ignored her. He always ignored her when she pressed the issue. Mila seemed to read him like an open book, always so _knowing_. It creeped him out. She tapped her fingers on the table before she unlocked her phone. Yuri watched her contentedly before she slid it across the table. Yuri stared at the open page as he swallowed his food. He looked back up at her, eyebrows knitted together.

“What the fuck is a sugar daddy?”

Mila laughed. Her hearty laugh filled with an unmistakable taunt of Yuri’s intellect. “It’s a man. An older man.”

Yuri stared at her. He wasn’t catching on to what she was talking about.

“He gives you money in exchange for.. Things.”

Yuri felt it register like a slap across his face. He picked up the phone and scrolled down the webpage.

_Sugar Babies seeking Daddies, click here!_

“Isn’t this some sort of prostitution? How is this legal?” Yuri skimmed the page, noticing stock photos of hot older men that were 100% unlikely to actually be a part of this website.

“No. It’s not _prostitution_. You don’t necessarily have sex with them. Sometimes they just like the company of a younger man.” Mila tugged her phone from Yuri’s grasp. “I already made you a profile.”

Yuri nearly choked. “You did _what_?” Mila didn’t answer him, clicking away on her phone before she faced it towards him. Yuri stared at himself. At least she had chosen a flattering photo.

“You need money and your parents refuse to let you touch their bank accounts until you have a job of your own. This is a way to get money without having to spend many extra hours working somewhere you don’t want to work.”

Yuri covered his face with his hands. He felt a blush rise from his neck, creep across his face like a heat wave. “Delete it.”

“Don’t you want to see the hot older man who already replied?” Yuri jerked his hands from his face before he snatched the phone from Mila’s hands. She smiled at him.The victorious _I win_ smile. Yuri brushed it off. He pulled open the messages after a long moment of trying to figure out how to work the website. A few messages popped open, most from men who were anything but Yuri’s type.

Then he saw it. The dark hair, the tilted smile, the cut jawline. He nearly trembled as he opened the message.

_Hello, Yuri. I’m Otabek Altin. I’d be interested in getting to know you._

Yuri felt a squeeze in his chest. It halted as soon as it started. “Have you ever seen that show Catfish?”

Mila just snorted. Yuri was serious. “What if he isn’t who he says he is? Do I have to meet him in person? Do I have to send him naked pictures? God, what if he wants to cut me open and wear my skin?”

“Relax. I’m sure he’ll pass you his phone number and you two will get acquainted before meeting in person. I don’t think he’ll try to _wear your skin_ in a public place, either. There’s more meeting places than a dark office or a back alley, you know.”

Yuri felt that jab like a knife. “Right.” He glanced up from the phone just in time to see Leroy walking across the room. His cable knit sweater and his slacks stirred something inside of Yuri as it always did. He didn’t even spare Yuri a glance. Yuri knew he wouldn’t, he _couldn’t_. He would be fired on the spot if anyone caught wind of their escapades.

“You can suck Professor Hottie’s dick forever while eating ramen, or you can pick up a sugar daddy and drown in fortune. Your choice.” Mila’s voice pulled his eyes back towards her. He just shrugged and set to typing a response.

_I’m new to this. I don’t know what I’m doing. I would love to get to know you. How do we do that?_

With that, he waited. He pried the information for his account from Mila and promptly changed the password so she couldn’t intrude on his private conversation. He thought about it for the rest of the evening, even when Leroy was buried inside of him.

_I’m new to this too. This is my first time. Here is my phone number, give me a call tonight. I’ll be out of the office around 9._

Yuri read the message in Leroy’s dim office. He was buttoning his pants and pretending that Leroy wasn’t whispering his usual _we need to stop this._ It was already nearing 9. He stumbled from the room without so much as a goodbye, tripping over his shoes on his way.


	2. Chapter 2

Yuri counted the minutes until nine. His fingers hovered over the call button, already having dialed in the numbers. Would it be strange for him to call right at nine? Probably. Yuri wasn't one to play hard to get though.

_8:58_

Yuri drummed his left fingers on his thigh. He scratched his nose. He stared over at Georgi’s bed. It had been at least five minutes already.

_8:59_

Yuri breathed in through his nose and back out through his mouth. He was nervous, his pulse pounding in his ears, his fingers trembling slightly. He recalled exactly what Otabek looked like, allowing himself to imagine him on the other end in a suit, loosening his tie.

_9:00_

Yuri hit the call button without hesitation. He chewed absently on his thumbnail as he listened to the shrill ringing. It rang and it rang, Yuri feeling his pulse pick up its pace.

“You've reached Otabek Altin. I can't get to the phone right now but please-” Yuri didn't listen to the whole thing, hanging up the phone with a quick stab of the red hangup button. He _had_ called at exactly nine. He couldn't be upset if the guy didn't answer right away.

Yuri stared at his phone a bit longer, watching the screen timeout. He stretched out his legs and yawned.

He awoke with a start when the door slammed open. Georgi was back from his date. Yuri picked up his phone.

_1:06 am_

He had no missed calls and no messages awaiting him. At least, not from anyone he wanted them to be from. Georgi shot him a sparing glance before he sauntered towards the bathroom. Yuri waited until he heard the water run before he dialed the number again.

“You've reached Otab-” He hung up quickly, letting out a growl. Had he already gotten himself stood up? Why was he so irritated by it? He didn't even know the guy. Yuri pulled up his sugar baby profile, skimming through the messages. Nothing from Otabek since his last message with his phone number. Yuri scrolled through the others in his inbox, finding himself rather uninterested in any of the pictures. He hit the home button on his phone and pulled up Professor Leroy’s number.

_Are you still in the office? I need help with a homework assignment._

He pulled himself into a sitting position just as Georgi popped out from the bathroom.

_I am._

Yuri knew what that meant. He stood from the bed and tugged on his jacket as he slipped into his shoes.

“Where are _you_ going so late?” Georgi’s voice sounded condescending. Yuri hated it when he pulled that tone with him.

“None of your business.” He slipped out the door without a second glance.

The cold from outside hit him with force, and he tugged his hood up to shield his ears. Leroy’s office wasn't terribly far - a four minute walk from the front steps of his dorm building. Not that he'd counted. He pulled his cigarettes from his coat pocket and paused to light one, blocking the cool wind with his hand. The pull of his cigarette calmed his nerves, the smoke curling in his lungs before he blew it back out. He knew he should quit smoking, but it was always _I will next month_ with him.

The campus was mostly empty, dimly lit as the cold air seemed to make the lights shimmer. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and snuffed it out with his shoe just as a campus security guard rounded the corner.

“Fuck.” He wasn't supposed to be out this late wandering campus unless he had special permission. They'd had a few broken windows and vandalized buildings recently, so security had nearly doubled.

“Have somewhere you're supposed to be?” The man’s voice was low and gravelly. Yuri didn't recognize him, most of the guards knew he traveled to Professor Leroy's office some nights for his _tutoring_ the two called it.

“Yeah, I-” Yuri dug into his pockets, struggling to find the signed paper that granted his permission. He didn't have it. “I have tutoring sessions with Professor Leroy. I work late sometimes so I catch him late. I have a paper, I just don't have it on me. You can come with me if you'd like?”

The security guard flicked his wrist, his expression blatantly showing his lack of desire to be patrolling the campus after midnight in the cold. “Next time have your paper or you won't just receive a verbal warning.”

“Yes sir.” Yuri mumbled, pulling his coat tighter around his frame. He waited until the man was further away before moving. He'd covered his cigarette butt with his foot. He hurried now, not wanting to cross paths with another security guard.

The warmth from the building stung. Yuri cupped his hands together and breathed into them for warmth as he took the steps two at a time. When he reached Leroy's door, he gave a few quick raps of his knuckles and waited. The familiar click of the lock made him drop his hands from his face. Leroy's face was weary, glasses slid halfway down his nose. His hair was a tousled mess.

“Fall asleep on the job?” Yuri's voice was teasing, a smile tilting his lips. Leroy closed the door behind him when Yuri shoved past. He didn't receive a response, and that was fine. He wasn't here to chat. He was here to relieve his stress.

In the same breath, he shoved Leroy back into the door, capturing his lips with his own. He didn't control the speed for long, feeling the brush of Leroy’s tongue along his lips. He melted into it, allowing himself to be moved and pressed into the door. Leroy’s hands were quick, tugging at his jeans without ever breaking their kiss.

Their kiss was a push and pull, Yuri tugging at Leroy's tie to force him impossibly closer. He felt his worries drain from him with every slide of Leroy's tongue. Yuri's head snapped back, slamming against the door when he felt Leroy grip his cock. He was already half hard, his breathing labored from their kiss. He caught the flicker in Leroy's tired eyes before he dropped to his knees. Yuri loved him on his knees. It was one of the few times he felt in control.

A slow lick across his tip had Yuri keening, hands finding a place tangled in Leroy's dark hair. His eyes fixated on blue. The devilish gleam in them made Yuri quiver with excitement. He bit his lip and watched his cock disappear.

“Fuck, _Professor_.” Yuri growled, gripping the hair between his fingers. He tried to hold their gaze, but every drag of those lips down his shaft made his lids heavier with pleasure. The vibration of Leroy's moaning and the constriction of his throat pushed Yuri closer and closer to climax. He didn't want it to end. He wanted that warm, wet mouth wrapped around his cock forever. Those blue eyes staring up at him, those glasses slipping further down his nose.

“Relax your throat,” whispered Yuri. He shifted his feet further apart. Using Leroy's hair for leverage, he began to fuck into his mouth. “God you look so good on your knees. I'm going to cum all over your face. I want you to eat it.” Leroy stared up at him, tears streaming down his cheeks from the force of Yuri’s throat fucking. He choked and sputtered when Yuri pulled out, tugging his cock over Leroy's face until he came. Long ribbons of cum shot across his face, across his cheeks, his open mouth, and across his skewed glasses. Yuri sucked in a breath of air, milking himself through the last waves of his orgasm. He slapped his spent cock against Leroy's lips with a hum of approval.

Leroy began to stand, likely moving for the box of tissues on his desk, but Yuri caught his shoulder. “I said I want to watch you eat it.”

“Yuri-” Leroy began, but Yuri cut him off. He grabbed his face and tilted his head back. With his free hand he swiped up some of his cum before shoving his fingers into Leroy's mouth. His own arousal must have turned off any desire to argue. Yuri felt his tongue swirl around his fingers. He smiled, enjoying the view. When he popped his fingers back out of his mouth, Yuri leaned down and licked a stray drop from the corner of his mouth. “Your turn.” He whispered with a drag of his teeth against Leroy's ear.

Yuri enjoyed his bit of dominance, but Leroy enjoyed taking it back even more. He was less than gentle, fucking Yuri's mouth and pulling his hair. Leroy came down his throat, not even allowing Yuri to catch his breath.

This was exactly why Yuri enjoyed fucking his teacher. It was fast and dirty, no tender kisses and whispered _I love you_ s. He much preferred the no strings attached availability of his professor to anything he'd had in the past.

“Thanks for the tutoring.” Yuri breathed, wiping his lips after he eventually caught his breath. Leroy said nothing from his desk, too preoccupied with wiping the mess from his glasses.

Yuri left as hastily as he arrived. He stalked across campus, the sting of the cold nearly ignorable with the flush of his release still tingling his skin. He pulled his phone out, seeing a missed call and a new text. They were both from Otabek.

_Sorry I missed you. Late night in the office._

Attached was a picture. Otabek with his tie loosened and his top buttons undone. The bags under his eyes made Yuri feel guilty for a moment. He forgot his anger, eyes sweeping the sharp angles of Otabek's face with curiosity.

He was ridiculously sexy. Even late at night in a dim office looking like he was fueled by three hours of sleep and too much caffeine. Yuri let his mind wander, imagining himself sneaking into that office to blow him or get bent over his desk.

_No problem. Talk tomorrow?_

The time stamp was from over thirty minutes prior, but the response was instantaneous.

_Yes. Tomorrow. Rest up, it's late._

Yuri smiled. He found Otabek's stoic and impersonal responses endearing. Otabek was in for the ride of his life.

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

 

Yuri woke to Georgi shaking him awake. He squinted at the sunlight streaming through the blinds and let out a groan. “If the sun is shining directly through our window that means it's too fucking early to be awake.”

“Your phone has been ringing nearly nonstop for the past hour. I don't get how you can sleep through it.”

Yuri rolled over and patted around the bed for his phone. When he found it, he unlocked it as a call came through. “Hello?”

“Yuri, it’s Otabek.” He paused. “Altin.”

Yuri sat up abruptly, feeling a tad lightheaded from the blood rush. “I got that. Hi.” He was uncharacteristically nervous, unsure what to say. He chewed on his thumbnail, always his habit when he wasn’t sure what else to do. He heard a chuckle from the other end of the line. It made his stomach flutter.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t receive your call last night. I had a lot more work than I thought. I wanted to call you when I got home but I didn’t get home until well after three.”

Yuri pulled the phone from his face.

_9:43 am_

“You didn’t even get six hours of sleep. Is that even healthy?”

Another laugh. “No. I’m used to it though. Running a business has its downsides. Enough about me though, I wanted to talk before we meet. Just in case there’s any.. Misconceptions. Safety reasons and all that.”

Yuri listened to him carefully, twirling a few strands of hair around his finger. His voice was calming, a breath of fresh air from the monotonous tones of his professors and the obnoxious voice of his roommate.

“I just want a few things from you. I will return the gesture. I just want to clear the air before we meet.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“First off, I don’t want a sexual relationship with you. Not yet, at least, in case it ever leads to that.”

Yuri pouted at this. He felt a little disappointed at this news. He had wondered what it would be like to rip that suit off.

“Got it.”

A pause, a draw of breath. “Second, I would like some sort of proof. A picture of you doing a certain thing, or a picture of you with a piece of paper and your name and username. I don’t want to believe you’re lying, but you know how it can be.”

“I don’t, actually. I don’t ever do this kind of thing.”

“Me either, but it is a pretty common occurrence on the internet.” Otabek stopped speaking for a moment, Yuri hearing a rustling in the background. “No, put that down. You know you aren’t supposed to be eating that!” Yuri’s breath caught for a moment. Did he have a kid?

“Sorry. My dog he-” Yuri breathed a sigh of relief. “Anyways. I’ll send you a picture as well.”

“I’d love to see you in your suit again.” Yuri breathed, his words sultry, full of hidden meaning. He heard Otabek clear his throat.

“Besides that, I want to hear a little about you.” Yuri heard shuffling again, a bark followed by Otabek’s melodious laughter.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Just tell me about yourself.”

“I feel like I’m on my first day of college where they tell you to _introduce yourself to the class_.” Yuri laughed and laid back on his bed. “I’m Yuri Plisetsky, but you already knew that. I’m 23 - I’m not sure if my friend included that in my profile. I’m close to graduating from college, next semester will be my last.”

“What are you in college for?”

“Social Services, I want to be a social worker for children. You know, the kids with rough homes and backgrounds. I can’t say I really know what that’s like, but it’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”

“Admirable. Did you have a good childhood?” Otabek’s words had a way of making Yuri talk a mile a minute. He felt like he could tell this man just about anything he asked without hesitation. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“Ah, yeah I guess you can say that. My parents are wealthy, I grew up pretty privileged. They paid my entire way through college. I don’t have a single student loan to my name.”

“That must be nice.”

“Yeah. I don’t have much to complain about, really. What about you?” Yuri allowed himself to be curious, to wonder what made Otabek tick. He wanted to get to know him, to know everything about him. He was mysterious in a way, interesting and hard to ignore.

“I had.. An okay childhood. My parents weren’t the wealthiest, but I was raised with good manners and the morality to respect my elders. I respected my parents a lot, they both worked hard to raise my sister and me.” Yuri hummed in response, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to stare at the tiled ceiling above him. “I got here on my own. Owning my own business, that is. I can proudly say I paid off all my student loans though.”

It was Yuri’s turn to smile. “Admirable. What is it that you do? For your business?” He heard Otabek pause, a hesitation to his question. He wondered if he’d get an answer.

“Investment. It’s a really huge business if you know what you’re doing. I went through years of school and failing to get here, but I made it.”

“I don’t know the first thing about investing.”

“Luckily you don’t have to. I have to get going, though. I need to be down at the office in 20 minutes to meet with a client. It was nice chatting with you, Yuri. I hope to see you soon.” He hung up the phone before Yuri could even respond. He wasn’t sure what to do with that, so he locked his phone and laid still for a few moments longer.

He must have dozed off because when he woke, it was already mid afternoon. He had class in less than an hour and remembered with a twinge of panic that he hadn’t finished his assignment. If he wanted to pass with honors, he couldn’t afford to miss a single bit of homework. He skipped his usual before class shower in favor of scribbling out his work. He tried to focus on it instead of thinking about Otabek.

He ended up doing a little of both. His class came and went, and Yuri swore his brain was melting and dripping from his ears. He tired of the hard seats, the obnoxious drone of his professor rattling on about this and that. Yuri wondered why he’d even bothered coming to college when he knew he was going to hate it just as much, if not more than he hated high school.

But he knew he wanted to _better the world,_ or something as annoyingly uplifting and motivational.

Stepping into the cafeteria was a shock, the bright florescent lighting and the blast of the heater paralyzing him for a moment before he looked around for Mila. He caught a flash of her red hair at a table on the opposite side of the room. She was likely flirting with Sara, the nerdy girl that was in one of his classes. At least, he _thought_ her name was Sara. Maybe it was Sharon?

“Yuri! So, how was the _chat_?” Mila was bubbly as usual, voice too loud and shrill in his ears. He flopped down next to her, exasperated. He wanted to spill everything, but he also didn’t want to dish out his entire life in front of a girl he barely knew. He decided to ignore her question, pulling his phone from his pocket. Mila prodded him a bit more, but he ended up tuning her out until she gave up. She insisted on scooting close enough to him for them to be touching, and Yuri didn’t bother fighting with her about it.

_The picture I promised._

Attached was another photo of Otabek. Impossibly hot, this time wearing a pair of pajamas that looked like they cost more than a semester of college. Did they even make pajamas that expensive? Maybe Otabek just made them look that way. He was holding a piece of paper with a scribble of his name and username. Yuri smiled and saved the photo.

“Holy shit, he’s sexy!” Mila cooed into his ear. Yuri felt a flush take over his face as he locked the phone. He mumbled something unintelligible, but was cut off when he noticed Professor Leroy strutting across the room. He was accompanied by another professor, one of whom Yuri didn’t recognize.

“Hey, who’s that?” He asked, jabbing Mila in her side. She glanced up then back over at Yuri, a smirk on her lips.

“Professor Yang. She teaches one of the History courses. I had her last year. She’s sweet.” Yuri felt annoyed by this. Annoyed by her being so close to Leroy, giggling at something he was talking animatedly about.

“Hm.”

“You’re jealous.”

Yuri ignored her, pushing up from the table and gathering his things. He couldn’t afford to be jealous. He _shouldn’t_ be jealous. The thing between them was nothing. Nothing more than a fling that would taper off the minute he graduated. Leroy didn’t want him, he wanted marriage, a kid or two. He’d told Yuri as much. Yuri should have known better.

Something inside of him still made him want to stick his foot through a wall, though.

“I’ll catch you later.” Yuri muttered, stalking across the crowded room. The only time it was ever crowded was around dinner, which was often why Yuri spent his time in his dorm or in Leroy’s office. It looked like the latter was out of the question.

When he stumbled into his room, Georgi wasn’t there. It was dark and cold, Yuri hurrying to flip on the light and plug in his space heater. The heating in the dorms sucked, something that the dean always said would be _fixed later_. She’d been saying that for the entire three and a half years Yuri lived in these dorms. It still wasn’t fixed.

He set to ripping his coat off, tugging on his thick pajamas. He remembered the photo Otabek had sent him. He needed to send one in return if he ever wanted to meet the guy. He really wished he could send something dirty, but the way Otabek told him _no sex_ reminded him not to.

He wrote his name and username on a piece of notebook paper, perching on his bed. He put on his best smile and stared at the picture of himself. It was suitable. Kind of. Yuri shrugged and sent it off, curling back into his pillow and tugging his mountain of blankets over himself.

Otabek responded within minutes.

_You’re gorgeous. Thank you for sending me proof._

Yuri smiled, ready to lock his phone and sleep, but another text came through seconds later.

_I’d love to meet you. How about this Saturday? There’s a little cafe I’d love to take you to._

Yuri felt the butterflies in his stomach come to life. He felt nervous and giddy, like the first time he ever went on a date. He wasn’t sure what to wear or how to act even though he’d done this before. Well, not exactly _this_ , but the dating thing.

_I would love to. Saturday is perfect._

Yuri rolled himself in the warmth of his blankets, drifting off to the soft whirring of his heater.


	3. Chapter 3

The cafe was a lovely place. Tucked away between trinket and clothing shops. The street was bustling with people, likely shopping for late Christmas gifts in the snow. Yuri felt a sense of calm, the warmth washing over him and pausing his shivering for only a moment. He nervously tucked his hair behind his ear, running himself through a mental pep talk before he stepped across the street to head inside.

The blast of heat stung his cold cheeks as soon as he stepped inside. It was dimly lit, tables crowded closely together, and a beautiful Christmas tree set up in one corner. It didn’t take Yuri long to find Otabek, the man staring out the window from a booth near the tree. Yuri couldn’t help but notice that he exuberated wealth - something about his aura spoke multitudes of how important of a man he was.

Yuri wanted to dart into the bathroom. He wanted to make sure his hair wasn’t too windswept and that his carefully selected sweater fit well with his tight-hugging jeans. He didn’t though, pushing past his nerves to head towards Otabek.

“Hi,” Yuri said quietly, sliding into the seat. The glint in Otabek’s eyes when they swept over him set the butterflies into flight.

“Hello, Yuri.” Otabek’s voice was smooth and soft, gentle in a way that made Yuri quiver all over. He sounded different than he had over the phone, more powerful and less laidback. Yuri kind of enjoyed it.

“You look a lot sexier in person than your pictures made you out to be.” Yuri spoke carefully, attempting to mask his anxiety with easy quips and flirts. He never had any problems laying his desires on the table, but something about Otabek made him feel as though he were stepping on eggshells. He wanted to break boundaries, though. He wanted to push into Otabek’s bubble and step all over his seemingly uptight demeanor. Yuri wanted to see him unkempt and turned on, driven wild by animalistic urges.

The dusting of pink over Otabek’s cheeks followed by a quick clearing of his throat only made Yuri smirk. “You look wonderful as well.” Yuri almost wanted to reach across the table. He wanted to grab Otabek by his shirt and kiss him breathless. He wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep to the strict rules of  _ no sex _ .

It was quiet between them for a moment, the clinking of dishes and silverware filling the air. Yuri nearly felt ashamed by his crude internal dialogue; his ridiculous desire to be bent over the table and fucked as if they weren’t sitting in the middle of a very crowded cafe in the middle of the holidays.

“I wanted to speak to you in person rather than just over the phone,” Otabek paused as a waitress bustled by to take their order before hurrying back towards the kitchen. “I believe we need to set up some rules. A foundation for our  _ relationship _ .”

Yuri tilted his head to the side, sliding his coat off as he began to warm up far too quickly in the hot room. “I’m listening.”

“As I mentioned before, I have no interest in having sex with you. Any sexual activity is strictly off limits.” If Otabek heard the huff Yuri let out under his breath, he made no notion of it before he continued. “Kissing is allowed. That is if you’re okay with that.” Yuri nodded. A little too excitedly. Otabek smiled in turn.

“Can I ask why sex is off the table? Don’t sugar daddies usually  _ want _ sex in exchange for giving away money?”

Otabek’s face scrunched together for a moment. Yuri stared at him, awaiting a response. Was he not actually gay? Was he testing the waters to see if men were his thing? He couldn’t possibly be a virgin at this age...

“I just don’t have any interest in having sex with someone that I don’t love,” Otabek responded finally, the silence sweeping over them once more as their coffees were set before them. Yuri focused on stirring too much sugar into his instead of looking at Otabek.

“I would very much enjoy being able to spoil you, Yuri. I don’t expect much in return. I just long for some company, as my job can be stressful at times. Maybe it’s strange of me to seek companionship in a stranger via using my money - but I have neither the time nor the patience to seek friendship or even a relationship on my own time.”

Yuri mulled over the words in his head, still stirring his coffee. He was certain that sugar daddies generally looked for more than a simple  _ companionship _ , as their money could coax more than that out of a desperate college student. Hell, Yuri would have sex with Otabek  _ for free _ , but that was beyond the point.

“Why me?” Yuri asked then, finally lifting his gaze from his cup. Otabek stared back at him from beyond his lifted cup. Yuri chewed his lip. God, he was an idiot.

“You’re attractive, you’re in school, and you seem interesting,” Otabek said. He set his cup down and dabbed at his lips with his folded napkin. Yuri watched his movements with intrigue. He was stoic and deliberate with his actions. His manners were impeccable, and Yuri almost felt strange slouched in his seat with sugar dusting the table around his cup.

“You don’t want  _ anything _ from me? Blow-jobs? Hand-jobs? Nudes? Absolutely nothing?”

Otabek chuckled. The pink crept across his cheeks again. Yuri was rather enjoying himself. “No, Yuri. I just wish to have your presence. I would like to take you out sometimes, buy you things. If at any time you become uncomfortable with our situation, you can back out.”

Yuri almost laughed. Why the hell would he back out of free money, kisses, and dates with someone this inhumanly sexy? 

“I will call you in advance to arrange dates. I’ll provide clothing and transportation.” Otabek continued. Yuri took a sip of his coffee, biting back a gag. It tasted as though he had dumped the entire sugar dispenser into it. “I don’t expect this relationship to be exclusive. If you wish to date others, I have no qualms with that. I do hope that you are willing to sacrifice some time for me, though.”

Yuri chose to ignore his over-sugared coffee. “Of course. I don’t really do the whole mutual dating thing anyway.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. He wasn’t technically mutually exclusive with Leroy... It just happened to be his  _ only _ “relationship” for the moment.

Otabek smiled again, in the way that made Yuri’s heart melt. He was definitely past okay with this arrangement. Money, clothing, and dates in exchange for nothing more than his time tickled his interests. He had tired of working dead-end jobs just to afford more than cafeteria food and a few nights out here and there. He was already making plans to quit his job and tell his boss to fuck himself.

“Beyond that, I just wish to get to know you.” Otabek cut into Yuri’s thoughts. “If there is anything you want to know about me, I am an open book.”

Yuri thought of all the things he could ask, ranging from  _ how big is your cock _ to a milder  _ tell me more about your job. _ He opted for the latter, deciding the former would set Otabek into another fit of semi-masked unease.

“I invest in a lot of things. Companies, buildings, you name it. I own a large portion of a few hotels in Las Vegas, as well as a few smaller businesses around the country. It’s not interesting work unless numbers are your thing.” Numbers were far from Yuri’s thing. They were so far from being Yuri’s thing.

“I love numbers.” A rather blatant lie. Yuri instantly refused to regret it when Otabek’s face lit up. He spoke animatedly about his work, and Yuri half-listened, pretending to be intrigued by it all. He watched Otabek’s lips, and the way he ran his tongue over them when they began to dry. He watched the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. He danced over their boundaries by bumping his foot into Otabek’s, sliding it up his leg as he chewed on his lip. Otabek let it slide, the only proof that he noticed was the blush. Always the blush. 

Yuri was going to have a lot of fun with this man.   
  


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“Fuck, kitten, what’s got you so worked up?” Leroy breathed between heated kisses. Yuri was nearly devouring his lips, nipping and tugging at them with primal hunger. His hands were halfway up Leroy’s shirt, tracing the indentations of his muscles. He ground himself down into Leroy’s lap, the fingers digging into his hips egging him on.

Yuri didn’t answer, opting instead to rip Leroy’s shirt off over his head. He trailed kisses down his jawline, down his chest. He nipped and licked as his fingers worked open his jeans. Leroy was sexy in a nerdy  _ teacher _ kind of way. A nerdy,  _ fucking ripped _ teacher kind of way.

After some wiggling to free himself of his own clothing, Yuri slipped a condom onto Leroy’s cock, slicking it with lube before carefully sinking down onto it. The growl he heard from his professor pulled a moan from his lips. He would never tire of fucking his teacher on the couch in his office. He would never tire of those reddened lips and disheveled hair.

He rode Leroy with confidence, enjoying the bruising fingers on his skin and the buck of Leroy’s hips to meet his. Their kiss was fervent, sloppy and wet as they fucked.

“ _ Fuck me, professor, _ ” Yuri whispered in a way he knew spurred Leroy on. He tugged on his cock as Leroy fucked into him. He spilled over his hand with a cry, pushing Leroy over the edge along with him. It was hot and sticky, but Yuri didn’t care. He kissed Leroy more gently, fewer teeth and less neediness involved than before. He felt the stroke of fingers in his hair, brushing it behind his ears. He didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay here, straddling Leroy and kissing him until he  _ had  _ to leave. The tenderness they shared in kisses and caresses after quick sex was more important to Yuri than he let on. A part of him was almost certainly in love with his teacher.

Fuck.

Yuri slid from his lap slowly, breaking their kiss with a soft  _ pop _ . Leroy looked absolutely wrecked. His hair was a mess from Yuri’s fingers, and he noticed streaks of pink down his chest from where Yuri had scratched with his blunt fingernails. He really wanted to take a picture.

“ _ Yuri _ ,” Leroy growled. He knew what Yuri was heading towards as he pulled his phone out of the pocket of his discarded jeans. Yuri just grinned as he snapped a picture.

“No one will ever see it except me,” Yuri replied. He pulled his clothing back on after wiping the sticky mess of his cum from his fingers and stomach. He leaned over Leroy for another kiss, fingers tangling in soft locks of hair. “You have plenty of me, why am I not allowed to have any of you?”

The soft chime of Yuri’s phone startled them both. It pulled them back from the feeling that they were the only two people in existence. Yuri stared down at his screen. It was a text from Otabek.

“I have a date tomorrow. I can’t-” Leroy began, but Yuri cut him off. All the feelings he had a few days prior came washing back over him. Jealousy. Heartache. Definitely jealousy. He came into this knowing it was nothing more than sex, but Yuri couldn’t help but foster some feelings. Leroy had to have some inkling of an idea.

“I don’t really want to hear about it.” Yuri snapped. He startled even himself with the sudden shift in tone. “I’ll see you later.”

He left as quickly as he had arrived. He didn’t want his professor seeing the trickle of tears sliding down his cheeks.


	4. Chapter 4

Yuri stirred his drink, watching the bubbles drift to the top when he disturbed them with his straw. His thoughts rotated between worrying about an assignment, thinking about Otabek’s fingers doing indecent things, and Leroy’s date.

“Do you still have those pictures from our trip to the shore over break?” Mila asked between mouthfuls of french fries. Yuri didn’t have the pleasure of responding before she snatched for his phone. Yuri chose not to argue with her, eyes still fixated on the bubbles rising in his glass. Mila’s snickering forced his gaze to land on her, one eyebrow raised.

“Leroy’s got some _damn_ nice abs,” Mila began, lips puckered as she stared at Yuri’s phone. Yuri tensed for a moment, fingers gripping his glass. “Who knew that under those stupid sweater vests there was-” Yuri cut her off, reaching across the table to pull his phone from Mila’s grasp. She just giggled in kind, holding it away from him to flick to the next picture. Yuri braced himself, remembering the collection of not-so-modest photos he had taken of the professor.

“Mila, stop.” Yuri gritted through his teeth. Mila, of course, chose not to listen. The breath hissing through her teeth told Yuri she had found one of the dirtier photos. He stood too quickly, the chair scraping across the ground. It echoed through the cafeteria, a few students turning to see the commotion. Mila stared up at him, phone still held away from her. Yuri could see Leroy’s dick in all its glory. The cafeteria was not a place he ever imagined he would see _that_.

Yuri felt more embarrassed than angry; the rush of blood to his face causing him to feel faint.

_Enough._

Yuri ripped the phone from Mila’s fingers before turning on his heel. The soft whispers of the other students flitting about him. He was pissed. He was embarrassed.

He was also attempting to blink back the stinging in his eyes and calm the storm brewing within him.

 

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The loud ringing in Yuri’s ears drowned out the huffs and groans pouring from Leroy’s lips as he fucked Yuri’s mouth. He wanted to stop this, he wanted to fold the feelings up and tuck them away. _It was just too damn hard_.

He was undeniably head-over-heels for his professor.

Head leaned back against the desk, green eyes pooled with tears that trickled down his pale cheeks, Yuri gave in to his desire. He gripped Leroy’s thighs with bruising fingers, feeling the muscles tighten with every brutal thrust of his hips. Leroy’s glasses were askew and his hair was disheveled. The look of pure bliss as he chewed on his lip spurred Yuri on. He wanted to _own_ Leroy. He wanted to hold onto him and never let him go. He refused to acknowledge the fact that Leroy wanted a wife and some children.

In that moment, Leroy _was_ his. That was all that mattered.

Leroy buckled forward as he came, fingers tangled in the strands of Yuri’s hair. He moaned out a quiet whisper of Yuri’s name as his hips stuttered to a stop. Yuri lapped at his cock, smiling at the twitch of his professor’s muscles. Pulling off with a pop, Yuri tilted his head back to stare up at Leroy. His arms crossed over the top of the desk, hair hanging around his face. He was flushed down his chest, the rest hidden by the half-buttoned shirt he still wore.

“ _Kitten,_ ” Leroy began, the infamous sly smile appearing on Yuri’s face. He opened his mouth, showing the warm cum pooled on his tongue. He was answered with a shaky exhale and a glint in those deep blue eyes. Yuri allowed his hands to wander up and down the back of Leroy’s legs. His pants were around his ankles as he hadn’t had the time to completely strip himself of his clothing before his lips met Yuri’s.

Yuri swallowed unflinchingly. He never took his gaze from Leroy’s as he swiped his finger across his pinkened lips before sliding it into his mouth. He knew how erotic he appeared. He knew exactly what to do to pulse some life back into his professor’s spent cock.

Yuri let out a squeak when Leroy leaned down and gripped his face. Their lips met with hunger and impatience, a steady push and pull as they both tried to devour one another. Leroy’s free hand slid down Yuri’s stomach before slowly unzipping his jeans. His fingers were swift and experienced. He knew exactly where to rub the pad of his thumb to turn Yuri into a moaning mess. Yuri broke their kiss when he felt his orgasm was close. He didn’t want to cum, not yet.

“Professor,” Yuri whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of Leroy’s ear. The hand on Yuri’s cock tightened abruptly. Yuri smiled. Leroy always gave in to the student-teacher play. He seemed to enjoy it just as much, if not more, than Yuri did. Yuri stood carefully, wiggling his jeans down until they fell to the floor. He pushed himself up onto Leroy’s desk, ignoring the papers scattered about the surface. He reached forward for Leroy’s tie. He fisted it with whitened knuckles, pulling the professor towards him. “Fuck me.”

It was almost too sensual, the way Leroy held Yuri as they fucked. His arms wrapped around Yuri’s body, his face pressed into Yuri’s neck. Yuri’s legs wrapped around him, fingers gripping at Leroy’s shirt. The slap of their skin nearly overtook the moans of pleasure that escaped Yuri’s parted lips. He loved this. He loved feeling so connected with Leroy. He knew it was only temporary. He knew that just the evening before, Leroy had been on a date.

That was why he wanted this even more. All the lines that were drawn before were becoming blurry. Yuri was feeling nothing but possessiveness. _Leroy is mine_.

Yuri held on tight, the throes of pleasure overcoming him. His toes curled as he growled out an _oh fuck, right there_. Leroy picked up his pace, fucking into Yuri as the desk beneath him rattled with their movement. Yuri came harder than he ever thought possible. His eyes squeezed shut as he held his breath, the friction of their bodies rubbing his cock to completion.

Leroy didn’t let go, thrusts slowing to a stop as he bit into Yuri’s skin. Their heavy breathing was the only noise in the room. Yuri didn’t dare loosen his grip, ankles still crossed behind Leroy’s back.

The haziness of the moment overwhelmed Yuri’s senses. His heart didn’t slow, even after a few moments passed. He could hear it beating loudly in his ears as he slid his hands into Leroy’s dark hair. He pulled on it gently, forcing his professor’s face back from the safety of his neck. Yuri took in his features: his soft, parted lips, his flushed skin, and the way his eyes were so fixated on Yuri’s mouth.

They kissed again. This time it was more slowly, with less impatience and vigor. Yuri took his time exploring the inside of Leroy’s mouth. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to pull away and forget this moment. Although he knew it would likely be fleeting, he wanted this moment to last. He broke their kiss to trail kisses down Leroy’s jawline. The quiet huffs of approval made him beam with the knowledge that _he_ was the one who reduced Leroy to this state.

Leroy gently pushed Yuri back. Their eyes met, and Yuri only then noticed the look of uncertainty swirling in the dark blues of his professor’s.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Don’t.” Yuri spoke quietly. He shoved Leroy away before sliding from atop the desk. He knew what this was going to be about. Leroy didn’t have the usual tone he carried when he mumbled _we can’t do this anymore_ half-heartedly.

“Yuri-”

“It’s about that professor, isn’t it?” Yuri asked, back turned to Leroy as he fastened his belt. The soft sigh he received gave him the only answer he needed. “You want us to stop this, don’t you?” Yuri turned then.

“I don’t, but..” Leroy paused. He ran his hand through his hair, flitting his gaze to the side. Yuri didn’t want to hear what he was about to say. He pinched the bridge of his nose before bending for his coat and his bag.

Yuri stopped only when his hand was on the doorknob to leave. “You love her, don’t you?” Yuri whispered, closing his eyes as he awaited a response.

“No, Yuri.”

“Then why?”

“When we started this, it was nothing more than a game for you. For me. It was on a whim. You lusted for me, and I for you, and now..” Leroy paused, and Yuri turned slowly to meet his gaze. “Now I think you’re harboring feelings for me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Yuri’s breath caught in his throat. Had he really been that obvious? He fidgeted with the strap of his bag, unsure of how to approach the situation before him. Should he be sincere, or should he lie? If he told the truth, it was likely that Leroy would sever their relationship. Yuri wasn’t quite sure that he was ready for that. Not now.

“Don’t worry about me.” Yuri spoke with unease, and he was sure that Leroy noticed. The professor scratched his stubble and dropped his eyes to the floor.

 _I fucked up._ Yuri thought, bracing for harsh reality to strike.

“Yuri, eventually this- Us..” Yuri let out the breath he had been holding. His fingers shook and his grip on his strap tightened. “It will all have to end, you know that, right?”

Yuri shrugged. With a few steps, Leroy was in front of him. His hand cupped Yuri’s jaw, forcing their eyes to meet once more. Yuri held his breath again.

Leroy was absolutely beautiful. Yuri should have known better than to try a no-strings-attached relationship with him. He had never been in one before, and he thought it impossible to fall for his teacher. He had been so very wrong.

“I never thought something like this would happen. Maybe if we were in another life-” Yuri cut Leroy off, hand pressed to his mouth. He didn’t want to hear it. He knew this was the beginning of a _gentle_ rejection.

“Like I said, don’t worry about me,” Yuri replied, dropping his hand.

Maybe Yuri needed to distance himself for a while. His heart sunk at the thought.

“I’ll get over it. It’s just puppy love, right?” Yuri forced a smile before standing on his toes to press a kiss to Leroy’s lips. Leroy just _hmmed_.

Yuri left without another word.

 

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Yuri stared at his phone.

_7:00, my assistant will be there to pick you up. He will have your attire with him._

  * __Otabek__



The message made Yuri laugh. The fact that Otabek signed his name at the end of every text was endearing. It was almost as if Otabek was so old that he didn’t know how phones even worked to begin with.

As promised, the assistant showed up at Yuri’s apartment at 7:00 on the dot. Yuri had spent the entire morning at the tailor’s with him, getting a suit fitted to his measurements. When the tailor mentioned the price, Yuri nearly choked on his tongue.

“Mr. Altin will be paying for this,” The assistant said smoothly, pulling a card from the inside pocket of his jacket. Yuri admired him, the way his hair was slicked back, not a single strand out of place. He was handsome, brown hair and dark eyes. He had told Yuri to call him Leo.

Yuri wondered what it would be like to have someone at his every beck and call.

The suit fit him perfectly, but he chose to forget the tie. His only rule was that he would _never_ wear a tie. They made him feel stuffy and important. He was not particularly stuffy, and he sure as hell wasn’t important. He left the top button undone, and the eyebrow Leo raised at him as he entered the den made him smile.

He had barely combed his hair, the long strands falling around his shoulders like a golden curtain. He had spritzed his cologne on, hoping to at least smell the way he looked.

Unfortunately, his department store cologne would be no match for whatever Otabek wore.

The date went by rather quickly, Otabek ordering a couple bottles of wine. He ordered Yuri’s meal for him, as Yuri had been completely lost staring at the menu. _Why is the menu in Italian?_ He had asked Otabek, who merely chuckled.

Yuri was full and pleasantly warm by the end of their meal. They had spoke of useless things, such as Yuri’s life at school and Otabek’s job. He felt tingly from head to foot, the alcohol warming his insides.

Shit, he was horny.

Otabek had loosened his tie towards the end of their dinner, and Yuri realized then that he had a very specific fetish.

“I guess we should take you home,” Otabek said gently, his hand resting atop Yuri’s on the table. Yuri pouted. He didn’t want to leave.

“Can I come home with you?” He asked, batting his eyelashes. Otabek stared at him, lips pursed. It was stupid of Yuri to ask. They had only just met, and of course Otabek had already told him there would be nothing physical between them. Cuddling wasn’t out of the question though, right?

“Yuri,” Otabek said, pulling his hand back. He looked concerned, the crinkles between his eyebrows deepening.

“Sorry, I won’t ask again.”

“No, no. I never said you couldn’t come home with me it’s just- I-” Otabek stuttered a bit, a flush spreading across his cheeks. “I’ve never had anyone stay over before.” The last bit was nearly a whisper. Yuri was stunned, eyes widening.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Yuri reached across the table, palm upturned. Was Otabek trying to tell him that he had never slept over with anyone? His previous thoughts of the possibility that Otabek was a virgin came rushing back.

Otabek didn’t take his hand nor did he respond. He chose instead to rub at the back of his neck before standing. It was sudden, his chair scraping across the floor in his hurriedness. Yuri was still frozen, eyes wide. He didn’t even bother to pull his hand back.

The back of Otabek’s neck was tinged red, and Yuri knew he had done something horribly wrong. He stood, reaching out for the sleeve of Otabek’s shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Otabek cleared his throat before turning to Yuri. The red had softened to a pink, dusting the tops of his cheeks. Yuri thought he looked even more gorgeous beneath the dimmed lights of the restaurant. His hair had slipped from its neatly combed style, and the buttons on his sleeves were unbuttoned and rolled back. He looked damn good when he tried to get comfortable in his suit.

“Come,” Otabek said, grabbing his suit jacket and his card from the table. Yuri gave him a confused glance before hurrying to catch up with Otabek’s long strides.

The ride home was a quiet one, Otabek staring out the window. The tips of his ears were red, and Yuri knew he was probably just as buzzed as him. They had shared the wine, and towards the end of their dinner, they had both dissolved to laughter. Otabek losing his composure and his stoic demeanor made Yuri all the more attracted to him.

There were no words exchanged between them.

The car stopped in front of a tall building surrounded by over-the-top fountains. Yuri gaped at it as he clambered out of the car.

“Goodnight, Leo,” Otabek said, patting his shoulder before wrapping his arm around Yuri’s waist. Yuri jolted. This was the closest they had ever been, minus the brief hand holding and the foot Yuri trailed up his pant leg.

Otabek escorted him inside, the rush of warm air and the smell of flowers overwhelming Yuri. He looked around wide-eyed, trying to take everything in before he was pulled into an elevator.

Yuri tried to start a few conversations with Otabek, but each word was met with a _hm_ or silence. He gave up until they reached the top floor.

Of course Otabek lived in a penthouse. It was spacious but empty, and the view over the city was jaw-dropping. Yuri pressed himself into the glass, staring out into the darkness littered with bright lights.

“Pretty, yeah?” Otabek asked. Yuri pulled his face back a bit, seeing Otabek’s reflection in the window. He nodded. Yuri wished Otabek would press against him. His mind wandered to more risque things including the image of Otabek fucking him into the glass. Yuri felt his cock twitch in his pants.

“Can I kiss you?” Yuri asked, the alcohol running through his veins enough to give him some confidence. Otabek stared at him for a moment.

“No.”

Yuri pouted again, back pressed into the glass. “Why not?”

“I told you-”

“Yeah, but it’s just a kiss..” Yuri trailed off, gaze lifting to meet Otabek’s. “Please?”

Otabek was stiff, eyes glinting in the dim light. He gave a curt nod. Yuri squealed with delight, pushing himself from the glass to melt into Otabek’s arms. His grip was stiff, as well as his muscles. He did not hold Yuri with love and kindness, nor was the kiss Yuri pressed to his lips returned.

“Kiss me,” Yuri whispered, breath ghosting over Otabek’s lips. He didn’t pull away, and even Otabek’s rigid composure was not enough to make him back off.

Again, Yuri kissed him. It was a light kiss, met with the pliancy of Otabek’s lips. Yuri wanted so badly to rip his clothes off and fuck him, his hands moving to the buttons of Otabek’s shirt.

“Stop.” Otabek gripped Yuri’s wrists, stopping him after the first button. Yuri felt scorned, pulling away. He stood in the middle of the room, watching as Otabek moved down the hallway. Away from him. Had he really messed up this time?

Only a few minutes later, Yuri heard Otabek call his name. He pulled away from the view of the city to mope his way down the hallway. He entered what he assumed was Otabek’s room, brightened with a small lamp that sat on his night stand. Otabek was already in bed, glasses perched on his nose, book laid open on his lap.

“There’s a change of clothes for you in the bathroom as well as a spare toothbrush.” Yuri stared at him, wondering why a man like him had spare toothbrushes in his bathroom. Maybe Yuri wasn’t the only sugar baby he had.

Yuri shrugged it off, stepping into the bathroom to close the door behind him. He was suddenly nervous as he stripped off his clothes. Everything was perfectly clean and organized, and Yuri felt out of place as he pulled on the clothes Otabek had left out for him.

The shirt was nearly three sizes too big, and if the shorts didn’t have a drawstring they would not have stayed up around Yuri’s thin frame. Yuri spent the rest of his time peeking in drawers and the medicine cabinet, but there was not a thing out of the ordinary. No prescriptions to be found, and only hygiene products and a single bottle of Aspirin.

Yuri collected his suit before flipping off the switch and opening the door. Otabek was concentrated on his book, eyes moving quickly as he read the words on the page. Yuri bit his lip. Even in pajamas and glasses Otabek was breathtaking.

Yuri laid his suit on the cushioned bench at the end of the bed, tugging at the hem of his shirt. It was nearly a night gown, and he wondered how much he even _needed_ the shorts.

“Are you going to get in?” Otabek asked suddenly, peeking over the top of his glasses. Yuri felt his heart racing, pulse rapidly thrumming in his neck. Why was he so nervous?

Yuri climbed in the bed, the warm sheets a shock to his cold legs. He laid as far away from Otabek as he could, afraid to set him off if he touched him again. Yuri knew he had crossed a line, and the idea of upsetting Otabek bit at him.

“You can come closer, you know,” Otabek said quietly. He closed his book, setting it down on the nightstand along with his glasses. He clicked off the lamp before lying down. It was quiet, the only sound coming from Yuri’s rapid heart beat and his shallow breathing.

“Come closer,” Otabek whispered. Yuri swallowed before scooting closer. The warmth of Otabek’s body surrounded him, his strong arms wrapping around his lithe frame. Yuri breathed in his scent as he tried to press as close as possible.

“How come you didn’t like it when I touched you?” Yuri asked quietly, voice muffled by the fact that his face was buried in Otabek’s chest. His heartbeat was slow and steady, seemingly unphased by the two of them being pressed so closely. Yuri cursed his cock for stirring in his shorts.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it,” Otabek began, his thick fingers stroking the ends of Yuri’s hair.

“Then what is it?” Yuri asked, trying to move so his erection wasn’t pressed into Otabek’s thigh. Otabek froze, and Yuri felt the panic wash over him. He fought the urge to grind himself into Otabek’s leg, instead moving so they were no longer touching.

“Yuri, I’ve never slept with anyone before.”

“You mean, you’ve never slept with a man before?” Yuri asked, trying to make out the shape of Otabek’s face in the darkness.

A quiet intake of breath, then a rush of words, “No, I’ve never slept with _anyone_ before. I’m a virgin, Yuri.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY MOLY I'M STILL ALIVE I'M SORRY ILY ALL.
> 
> also, I deleted my tumblr and then remade it bc I'm a moody bitch but it's back and you can refollow me and catch me [here](https://lecheesie.tumblr.com/)~
> 
> \+ a super special thank you to thoughtsappear for helping me as always<3<3


	5. Chapter 5

All of Yuri’s attempts to seduce Otabek were met with a firm grasp on his wrists and a quick peck to his forehead. He had eventually given up, curling himself into Otabek’s warmth. His fingers traced along tight muscles that clenched beneath his touch. Yuri could hear Otabek’s breath quicken, his body tense with every swoop of his fingertips.

“Why?” Yuri had asked, wrists once again caught between Otabek’s fingers. Otabek stared at him for a moment, brow furrowing.

“I guess I just never found any reason to.”

Yuri pondered this, face scrunching before he attempted to tug himself free of Otabek’s strong grip. He wanted to touch for so many reasons. The biggest being that he still wanted to see the stoicism fade as Otabek melted with pleasure.

“Have you tried with a woman?” Yuri asked, curiosity painting his features.

“Yes.”

Yuri finally managed to pull free, choosing to keep his hands to himself instead of being a nuisance. “How did it go?”

Yuri noticed Otabek holding his breath as he closed his eyes. He was full of so many questions, but he was certain he was toeing the line of Otabek’s willingness to answer.

“It didn’t.”

Yuri propped himself up on his elbow, his other hand twirling thin strands of blonde around his finger. “How do you know that you’re gay, then?”

“I’m not,” Otabek responded, voice quiet as his eyes opened. “I don’t really consider myself to be  _ gay _ , or anything at all, really.”

Yuri stopped toying with his hair, lips pursing. 

_ What the fuck does that mean? _

Otabek must have noticed his confusion, hand reaching for Yuri’s before he continued. “I’ve been in love, you know. Maybe once or twice.” Otabek hesitantly laced their fingers together, his eyes still fixated on Yuri. His gaze was piercing, testing Yuri’s self control with every passing second. “I have never hooked up with another person, and my fantasies are..” Otabek trailed off, cheeks flushing the color of his embarrassment.

Yuri stared down at their tangled fingers, mind racing. He was certain there was a word for the way Otabek was, but he wasn’t exactly keen about these things. “So you don’t like sex?” He asked finally, oblivious to the bluntness of his words.

“Mm..” Otabek let out a huff that was nearly a laugh. “I wouldn’t say that. I’d just say I’m not interested in sex without feelings.”

“Isn’t that a normal way to feel?” Yuri asked, eyes lifting to finally meet Otabek’s.

It was funny, though, such a thing coming from Yuri’s mouth.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’ve tried it before, without feelings, and I..” Otabek closed his eyes. Yuri squeezed his hand before letting out a giggle.

“You couldn’t get it up?” Yuri asked, rather insensitively. “Lack of eggplant emojis and water droplets?”

Otabek chuckled at this, his cheeks still pinkened.

“Something like that.”

“What do you think about when you masturbate? If I took off my clothes right now, you wouldn’t feel  _ anything _ ?” Yuri pressed on, so many questions swimming through his mind. So many things he wanted to know, wanted to ask.

Embarrassment was a wonderful shade of Otabek.

“I would rather you not.”

“How do you know you’re interested in sex  _ at all _ ?” Yuri continued, searching Otabek’s face for any signs of annoyance. So far, there were none. “If you’ve never had sex how would you-”

“I was close, a few times. Love is a paltry thing for some, and for others it’s everything.” The corner of Otabek’s lips twitched, an almost smile.

Yuri admired his expression for a few lingering seconds before he rolled over. He curled himself into Otabek, their fingers still entwined.

“How do you know when you’re in love?” Yuri asked.

Silence enveloped them before it was broken by the low rasp of Otabek’s voice.

“When you no longer have to ask that question.”

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

“You’re kidding me,” Mila said, mouth full of a varying amount of grapes.

“Why would I joke about something like that?” Yuri eyed her, grabbing a handful of fruit from the bowl in front of her.

“I’m pretty sure there’s a word for that,” Mila paused, swatting Yuri’s hand away. “Demisexual?”

“I didn’t know there was a label for it. I thought it was just..normal. Isn’t that how most people are?”

“Technically. Not everyone fucks everyone they find even mildly attractive.” Mila quipped. “I do wonder what he fantasizes about when he’s jerking it, though.”

Yuri snorted at this, but he was also rather curious. He’d never met anyone quite as interesting as Otabek. His own libido was through the roof, and he wondered if Otabek had ever sat down and actually enjoyed a good porno.

“He also mentioned he isn’t exactly gay. Does that mean he’s bisexual? Is he straight and just wants a male companion to test the waters?”

Mila shrugged. “I hope you didn’t ask him any of that. Think of it like this, Yuri, what am I?”

“Lesbian?”

“No, dumbass. Gender means nothing to me. If you’re attractive, you’re attractive. I assume that’s just how some people are.”

Yuri snatched another strawberry before Mila could bat his hand away. “You know a lot about these things.”

“If you spent less time fucking your teacher and more time paying attention to the world, you would too.”

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

“Yuri, I have  _ papers _ -” Leroy cut off with a moan, Yuri’s tongue lapping at the head of his cock.

“I’m not stopping you,” Yuri replied, staring up at his teacher from beneath his desk. His tongue swirled over the head again, slowly, as he enjoyed the pleasure written on Leroy’s face.

Leroy just huffed in reply.

Yuri hummed as he pulled the entirety of Leroy’s cock into his mouth, loving the hard heat slide across his tongue. His fingers splayed over Leroy’s thighs, feeling the muscles clenching as he sucked.

He knew his professor was close when his hips began to buck, trying so hard to push himself further down Yuri’s throat. Yuri's mouth was loud and wet, smothering Leroy’s cock with saliva. He felt his own cock pressing against his jeans, fighting the desire to pull himself to climax before his professor.

Yuri froze when the door clicked shut loudly, the absence of a knock nearly causing his head to slam into the bottom of the desk. He felt Leroy freeze as well, Yuri’s eyes shifting up to see his jaw clenched.

He knew that voice, it was Professor Yang. The flicker of desire still burned within him, his ever-evolving fantasies appearing before him.

He hesitated before continuing, pulling Leroy back into the warmth of his mouth. The professor gave him a gentle kick, a silent  _ stop _ , but Yuri didn’t comply.

He heard mentions of a date before tuning out her voice. He sucked and licked at the length of Leroy’s cock, hearing the strain in his voice when he responded. It was hot, sucking Leroy off with someone there who was completely unaware of his presence.

Yuri was awful, horrible even. He marveled in the twitch of Leroy’s thighs and longed to see his face when the hot spurts of cum hit the back of his throat. He reveled in it, dropping Leroy’s cock from his mouth just to stare up at him. He jaw was clenched so tightly that Yuri felt a twinge of concern for his teeth, and his face was reddened ever so slightly. 

He smiled. His hands slid across the professor’s thighs, his mouth opening when Leroy glanced down at him. The cum was pooled on his tongue, and Yuri was delightfully horny.

“Isabella, I have papers I need to finish grading and it’s getting late..” Leroy shifted in his chair and Yuri finally swallowed his cum. He didn’t hear her response, and was forcefully pulled from beneath the desk when the door clicked shut.

“Do you think she knew?” Yuri asked, the smile on his lips too hard to fight away. He slid into Leroy’s lap, fingers moving quickly to the buttons on his shirt.

“You know when I tell you not to do something-”

“You didn’t  _ say _ anything,” Yuri responded haughtily, unbuttoning the last of Leroy’s shirt before trying to force it off his shoulders.

“I kicked you, you know what that-”

“You liked it. You might try to argue with me, but I’m pretty sure the thousands of your could-have-been children that are swimming in my stomach right now can say otherwise..” Yuri was cut off by the press of Leroy’s lips to his own. Their kiss was hasty and wanting, wet and sloppy with their lust.

Yuri’s hands tangled in his professor’s hair, tugging at the strands as he ground himself into Leroy’s already stiffening member.

He failed to hear the door open again, startled when he was shoved back into the desk.

“Ow, what was that-” Yuri started.

“Professor?”

Again, the voice of Professor Yang. Yuri froze, eyes widened. A million excuses raced through his brain as he shuffled to stand. “Professor Yang, this is-” Yuri paused when her knowing gaze fixated on his own. “Exactly what it looks like. Please, don’t tell anyone. It’s my fault, JJ did nothing wrong, I came onto  _ him _ .”

Yuri rarely used his professor’s full name, as he found it to be strange. He preferred referring to him as  _ professor _ or  _ Leroy _ as they both felt a lot less intimate. 

Something something, he obviously fell in love with the guy  _ anyways _ ..

Professor Yang waved her hand in the air as Yuri held his breath. “I don’t really care what you do behind closed doors. To be frank, I already knew that Jean-Jacques had someone  _ else _ . He told me it was just physical.”

Yuri could hear the ice lacing her words. She didn't know Yuri, and it was obvious that their first meeting left a horrible impression.

She stared past him at Leroy, and Yuri turned slowly to see him still seated with his mouth agape. Yuri wondered if he had the balls to say anything back.

“It is, but -” Yuri drowned out the rest, the white noise that filled his conscious taking over. A part of him had hoped that Leroy could love him back, that he could rid him of his fantasies of a wife and children.

Yuri loved him. He loved him so much that it burned down to his core. It was all-consuming and powerful, the kind of love that overwhelmed and left no survivors.

He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt cold fingers swiping away his tears. The all-too-familiar press of warm lips against his own took over, and Yuri allowed himself to be swept up in Leroy’s embrace.

It was slow and careful, the quiet creak of the desk beneath him the only thing tying him to the present. He clung to Leroy until his knuckles whitened and his toes numbed.

“ _ We can’t do this anymore, kitten _ ,” Leroy whispered, his lips ghosting over the shell of Yuri’s ear. He squeezed his eyes shut and quivered, tears threatening to spill over once more.

This time, Yuri knew he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want you all to know that your wonderful comments mean A LOT to me. Thank you so much for standing by my little fic even when I suck at updating it <3


	6. Chapter 6

The warmth of alcohol swirled inside of him, dulling his senses and lightening his burdens. The sting of tequila in his throat was long gone, as was any ability he had to form a coherent thought.

It was nearing the end of the semester. With winter break came frost, and with frost came snow. The cold became even colder, and jackets were replaced with heavy fur coats and boots that took entirely too long to lace up each morning. 

Yuri had ventured through just about every party near campus for the past few weeks, his nights a blur of alcohol and groping fingers. He didn’t have the energy to sleep with anyone, and even in his drunken haze he never got any further than kissing. Yuri knew he was just trying to dampen the emotions he didn’t want to feel, and he was quite alright with that.

Even if Yuri felt like it wouldn’t, life continued on. Study, party, sleep, school, repeat. He was tired, and he could no longer pretend like he didn’t see the dark circles under his eyes. Any attempts that Mila made to keep him home and sober were ignored.

He’d rather be drunk than feel literally anything.

Yuri’s back hit the wall, the door clicking shut just as warm lips met his. It was sloppy with too much saliva, but Yuri was a bit too far gone to care. Fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt of which he lazily slapped away. His fingers found purchase in soft hair, pushing himself further into the kiss. He giggled when those kisses trailed along his jawline, pressing carefully into the spot on his neck that made his knees weak. Again, a tug at the hem of his shirt, but Yuri slapped his hands away once more.

He was bored.

Yuri let out a sigh before slipping away, ignoring the protests that followed him back out into the crowded hallway. His phone had been buzzing for the better part of an hour, and he was well past tired. He rummaged around in the front of the house for his coat, finally finding it beneath the ever-growing pile of winter attire.

Yuri stumbled out into the cold, wishing he had worn heavier clothing when the frost bit at his exposed skin. His gloves were too thin and he had forgotten his scarf. He wasn’t far from the dorms, but he was regretting his decision to walk nonetheless. He lit a cigarette and began his trek back, choosing to ignore the buzzing in his pocket.

It wasn’t terribly noisy outside, as it was far too cold for anyone  _ normal _ to be traipsing about at this hour. It was quiet, but it was the sort of quiet that settled when there was fresh snow on the ground and a soft wind. The tip of his cigarette glowed amber as the paper crackled and the tobacco withered with every puff. His fingers were half frozen and his head was muddled, but he somehow found the correct path back to his dorm. 

The warmth made his skin burn the moment he stepped inside. He wriggled his fingers to try and force blood back into them. Yuri felt exhausted then, ready to crawl into his bed and forget his entire evening. His phone buzzed again the moment he crawled into his bed, and even through the drunken fog, he managed to tug it from his pocket. He ignored the 21 messages from Mila and paused when he caught Otabek’s name.

He hadn’t even spoken to Otabek in over a week, not that Otabek hadn’t tried. Yuri was sure he would give up eventually, but he didn’t. He was persistent even through Yuri practically ghosting him.

A picture. A picture was all Yuri received. It was of Otabek, lounging in his chair, a dog curled up against his side. A piece of hair covered his eye like a wayward comma, and his tie was loosened. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, and Yuri swore he could see a few dark curls of hair peeking through. 

He felt warm, hairs on his arms raising as he traced his finger over the picture.

Otabek was  _ fine _ . 

Yuri considered texting him back, but he wasn’t even sure he would be able to form coherent responses with his frozen fingers and his alcohol-riddled brain. He chose to call instead, finger hovering over the key before pressing it.

“Yuri,” Came the breathy response. Yuri froze, imagining an array of promiscuous possibilities before he cleared his throat.

“Otabek, you really know how to get someone to respond to you.”

A laugh, warm and thick like honey. Yuri bit his lip. 

“It’s almost Christmas. I mostly wanted you to see Asher.”

“Who?”

Otabek laughed again, Yuri curled his toes. “My dog.”

“Yeah, I too like to make sexy poses to take pictures of my dog,” Yuri replied. His face was heating up - whether from the alcohol, the heat, or the sound of Otabek’s voice, Yuri wasn’t certain.

“What do you mean? I’m a mess, the picture was centered on Asher. I just don’t know how to take good pictures.”

Yuri giggled. An ugly giggle, more of a sputter. He imagined Otabek fiddling with his camera until ultimately deciding to just take a selfie. “Yeah, right. You should see me when  _ I’m  _ a mess.”

“I would love that,” Otabek retorted, quietly, voice nearly a whisper.

Yuri shuddered. “So, why the picture? I haven’t exactly been responsive to your messages, and..”

“His scarf.”

Yuri squinted a bit, trying to remember if the dog had on a scarf. Christ, he was drunk. He pulled the phone away from his face, the display lighting up the moment he did. He pulled back up the message, and sure enough, the dog was wearing a colorfully festive scarf. It made Yuri smile. “Ah, yes, the scarf.”

“It’s almost Christmas. I don’t know if you have plans, but I wanted to invite you to come somewhere. With me.” Otabek sounded a bit different than usual, the stoic and impenetrable demeanor a bit.. Softer. Was he nervous? Did Otabek  _ get _ nervous?

“I don’t really.” A lie. He did. Nothing he couldn’t cancel in favor of something more interesting.

“Wonderful. There’s a get together I go to every year, a sort of charity event. I wanted to know if you would allow me to escort you to it.”

Yuri sat up then, head spinning a bit as he did. He blinked once, twice, then let out a puff of air. “Yes. I would. When, where, and do I have to wear a suit?”

“Christmas Eve. Don’t worry about the where. I’ll come to pick you up. Yes, you have to wear a suit.”

Yuri pouted. He hated suits. The only one he owned was the one Otabek had gotten made for him. The one he had left over at Otabek’s apartment and never bothered to retrieve. The thought of seeing Otabek in his natural environment in yet another suit tickled his fancies, though. “I would love to.”

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

 

Yuri managed to borrow a suit from Georgi, but he seemed to have forgotten that Georgi was decently taller than he was.

“Can’t I just roll up the sleeves a bit?” Yuri asked, tilting his head to the side to admire himself in the mirror. He looked like a kid playing dress up. He’d never felt  _ short _ before, considering he himself was nearly six feet tall.

“Don’t you dare,” Georgi replied, smacking Yuri’s hand away from the sleeve of his coat. Yuri frowned, dramatically waving his arms around as the sleeves nearly engulfed his hands.

He pulled the tie around his neck, fiddling with it for a few minutes before Georgi pushed his hands away and helped him. Yuri felt ridiculous being so completely out of his element. His phone buzzed, a single notification of  _ I’m here _ popping up on the screen. Yuri almost tripped over his feet in his rush to finish spritzing himself with cologne before bolting out the door.

It was that time of the night where everything was a soft pink and yellow, the snow sparkling where the sun peeked through the buildings and the trees. Yuri didn’t have time to admire it, racing across the campus to meet Otabek. 

“You look-”

“Ridiculous.” Yuri finished, breathing heavily as he pushed his hair out of his face. He was sweaty and cold, a horrible combination. “I don’t like suits, they don’t fit me.”

“Then change.”

“I can’t, you said there’s a dress code. I’d look silly-”

“Do you really care what everyone else thinks?” Otabek asked, eyes twinkling in the last bit of sunlight. 

Not especially. “Will you wait?”

Otabek’s lip twitched just a bit, an almost smile. He lifted his arm, Yuri watching the fabric pull back to expose his heavy,  _ branded  _ watch. “You have time.”

Yuri sprinted off without another word, cold wind whipping his face. Georgi had already left, having only stayed behind to help Yuri. He was grateful for that, not having to explain anything as he ripped off the oversized clothing to replace it with his own attire. Jeans that were way too tight, and a shirt that matched. Pulling on his coat made him feel a lot better, more comfortable in this than he had been in a stuffy suit.

Otabek was leaned against the car when he returned, Yuri’s cheeks wind-bitten and hair a mess. Otabek’s hand moved, almost as if he wanted to fix it, but he dropped it just as quickly. Yuri frowned.

Yuri was envious of the way Otabek’s suit was so perfectly tailored to his form. The way the fabric clung to his thighs just enough for him to see the shape of his muscles. He wanted so badly to run his hands up the fabric, to  _ feel _ those muscles twitch beneath his touch.

They pulled up to a huge building, lit with golden Christmas lights and adorned with a Christmas tree that was probably at least four stories tall. Otabek’s driver held open the door as Yuri climbed out, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

Inside wasn’t any less extravagant. Chandeliers dripping with diamonds, and another massive Christmas tree met him. The clinking of champagne flutes and the hush of conversations made Yuri tingle. He had never been inside of such an expensive place, surrounded by people that  _ smelled _ of wealth. He inched closer to Otabek, linking their arms. Otabek stiffened a bit, but he didn’t pull away.

Yuri followed Otabek obediently, floating on a Champagne buzz. The boredom crept in, but he was entranced by the way Otabek behaved. He was closed up, in the way Yuri was used to. He was smiling, but not in his usual fashion. He was all stone and ice, and,  _ Jesus,  _ how badly Yuri wanted to break him. 

The evening crept on, and towards the end, Yuri and Otabek had split. Someone who seemed important had whisked him off, and Yuri was left alone. He stared at the glittering champagne flutes, deciding whether he wanted to have another or not. He could pick out Otabek’s voice in the crowd, as nearly everyone would silence as he spoke. He had a commanding presence about him, the type of person that people  _ wanted  _ to listen to. Yuri felt him near even though he couldn’t see him, and that enough made his blood run hot.

Yuri tipped back a few drinks, the buzz making his nose numb and his flesh hot. He moved from the table, trying to find Otabek in the crowd of black suits and dresses. He failed, his lips falling into a pout. It was hot, too hot, and he wanted to go outside. He thought for a moment that Otabek had left him there, but when he stumbled out into the courtyard, there he was.

Otabek’s usual sternness was replaced by a softened look, his eyes turned up to the stars. Yuri smiled a bit, leaning against a pillar to admire it. Otabek must have sensed him because his face tightened again, and the softness of his features turned back to stone.

“Why are you out here?” Yuri asked, pushing off from the pillar to move towards Otabek.

Otabek shrugged, hands dropping from his pockets. He fixed his coat and fiddled with his cufflinks. Yuri watched intently. “It gets hot in there.”

Yuri stepped closer, testing the boundaries. Though Otabek had just appeared soft and welcoming, when Yuri got too close, he was all elbows and solidity. He breathed in, and the smell of whatever Otabek had sprayed himself with that morning overcame his senses. It was musky and woody, spicy and  _ expensive _ . 

“Yuri,” Otabek said quietly. It was a quiet warning that Yuri was too close. He chose to ignore it, pressing his face against Otabek’s chest. He was warm, and his heart was beating loudly. Yuri swallowed, fighting back a smile.  _ He  _ made his heart pound like that.

“Why don’t you like being touched like this?” Yuri asked, voice muffled a bit by the fabric of Otabek’s shirt. He felt the  _ hmm _ he received as a response vibrate through him.

“We talked about this.” Otabek’s voice had taken a darker tone. It didn’t make Yuri want to back away. Instead, it made him want to move closer. 

“No, you told me you were a virgin and that you couldn’t get it up when you tried to fuck someone you didn’t love. I’m not trying to  _ fuck  _ you, I just want to  _ touch _ you.” Yuri knew he sounded whiney. His fingers moved to rest on Otabek’s stomach. He felt it tighten beneath his touch.

“No,” Otabek responded, hands grasping Yuri’s wrists. He forced Yuri away, hands held up on both sides of his head.

Yuri pouted again. “Why not? You let me touch your hand, you even  _ cuddled  _ with me. Touching you like this is crossing the line? Fuck your line. Let me touch you!”

The grip around his wrists tightened, and a flash across Otabek’s face made Yuri want to touch him even more. He tried to fight against Otabek, but Otabek was a lot stronger than he. For some reason that made Yuri’s insides melt. His wrists burned, but he wanted to feel even more. He was never one for pain, but something about Otabek made him want to surrender his control.

“ _No_ ,” Otabek said again, eyes still locked on Yuri’s. Yuri bit his lip. Tried to fight against Otabek’s strength again, but was met with a strength that far surpassed his own. Something inside of him made him want to kneel, to stare up at Otabek and do whatever he told him to.

“I don’t understand you. It’s not like I’m trying to fuck you. I just want to touch you for fuck’s sake.”

Before Yuri even realized, his back was flush against Otabek, arms crossed over his chest. He was pinned there, Otabek’s warm breath in his ear. “I said no.”

Yuri dared to move, wiggling his hips. Otabek tightened his grip.

“Please,” Yuri whispered, head moving to lean back against Otabek’s shoulder. He felt helpless and controlled, and that caused  _ a lot  _ of movement in his jeans.

“We had an agreement,” Otabek began, but Yuri felt him loosen his grip. “I can’t-”

“Can’t what? Admit that even though you aren’t in love with me, you have a raging hard-on right now? Can’t get the fuck over yourself long enough to just let someone  _ touch  _ you? You’re trying so hard to build a wall like you’re fucking Trump and I don’t  _ understand _ -”

He felt Otabek stiffen. Yuri broke free of his hold, stepping backward as he rubbed at his raw wrists. 

“You let me touch you last time we were together. You petted my hair and even let me get close enough to  _ kiss  _ you. Sure, you didn’t kiss back but..” Yuri dropped his gaze. “I don’t get these broken lines you seem to have. I can touch you one day, but now I can’t. You’re soft and kind and send me messages of you and your dog one day and the next you’re a fucking boulder-” Yuri stopped talking to let out a choke, feeling the burn of angry tears in his eyes.

“We had an agreement. You agreed to it.” Otabek’s voice was back to being stern and full of disinterest.

Yuri worried he may have messed everything up.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like this stupid agreement anymore. You do literally everything in your power to tease me and make me want you, but then you go and push me away and pretend that was never your intention. Did you really send me a picture of yourself because you wanted me to see your dog? Get fucking real.”

Yuri looked back up then, catching that flash in Otabek’s eyes again. 

Whether it was the alcohol, the anger, or the look on Otabek’s face, Yuri felt the overwhelming urge to kneel on the ground. To feel the cold rocks beneath his knees.

So he did.

“What are you doing?” Otabek asked, staring down at him. Those lashes,  _ those lashes _ , long and thick, cast shadows over his eyes.

Yuri didn’t respond, hesitating before placing his hands on Otabek’s thighs. The muscles tightened, and Yuri stared back up at him.

“Yuri,” Otabek warned, hands grabbing his wrists once more. Yuri stared back with defiance but allowed his hands to be pushed away. 

“I want to suck your cock,” Yuri said breathlessly, words tripping over his lips as he set his hands on his own thighs. Obediently. 

Otabek’s face darkened, but he didn’t move away. Yuri moved his gaze down, down the shirt clinging to Otabek’s stomach, to his belt, to the bulge in his pants that was threatening to tear the perfectly tailored fabric.

Yuri licked his lips and looked back up.

“Yuri.” Otabek didn’t pause as if he were going to continue. Yuri knew he was breaking Otabek’s composure. He knew that even though Otabek had set all these rules, and even though Otabek was a virgin, something about Yuri drove him crazy. Something about ordinary Yuri was enough to break a fucking millionaire.

“I want to suck your cock,  _ sir _ ,” Yuri said again, this time with a bit less confidence.

Otabek clenched his jaw. Yuri was leaving himself open and vulnerable. He was a puddle before Otabek, willing to hand over every bit of control over himself. He didn't want it. He wanted Otabek to tell him what to do in his silky voice. To command him, to  _ control _ him.

The quiet growl that ripped through Otabek made Yuri shudder. He bit back a moan of submission, the clink of Otabek’s belt and the rasp of his zipper impossibly loud in the dim, quiet courtyard.

His cock sprang free, and Yuri gasped. It was perfectly proportioned, thick and long, but not too much so. It was one of those cocks that were made to be worshipped, and Yuri was going to do just that.

He leaned in like the wanton whore he was, lips wrapping around it and sucking it in. The noises that came from Otabek made Yuri tingle all over. His hands found their way back to Otabek’s thighs, but he was again met with hands clasped around his wrists. The burn was erotic, and he reveled in the way Otabek’s velvety flesh moved around in his mouth. It rubbed against his tongue and just barely touched the back of his throat. He was used to cheating, using his hands to pull at the base with minimal effort from his mouth, but the way Otabek held him from doing so made that impossible.

“Yuri,  _ Yura. _ ” Otabek growled out his name like a prayer. Yuri fluttered his lashes and squinted up at him, just enough to see that a few layers had fallen away. Otabek’s head was tilted back, Adam's apple in his throat moving with every bob of Yuri’s head. His wrists were sore and his knees ached, but he continued, sucking Otabek’s cock like it was his favorite candy.

Otabek gave in to it, his hips forcefully shoving his cock further back into Yuri’s throat. He gagged and drooled, but he opened his throat and laid his tongue flat. He was careful to obey Otabek’s silent commands, allowing him to fuck into his throat. His own cock was dripping in his jeans and he itched to touch it.

The grip on his wrists tightened, and Otabek’s cock hit the back of his throat with one last thrust. The warmth of his release slid down Yuri’s throat, and he sputtered and gagged around his cock. Yuri hadn’t been aware of the tears trailing down his cheeks, of the way the corners of his mouth hurt and his jaw ached until after Otabek pulled away.

He felt empty, with the taste of cum on the back of his tongue and his lips swollen and fucked out.

Otabek stared down at him, the dark emotions on his face had faded to those of guilt. 

“I’m sorry, Yuri,” He said quietly, hand moving as if he were going to wipe the tears from Yuri’s cheeks. He didn’t. Yuri stared back, wiping his tears away himself with the sleeves of his coat.

He had just allowed Otabek to face fuck him and he was  _ sorry _ ?

“For what?” Yuri asked, voice raspy. He sounded a bit like an 80-year-old smoker. If he were in any other situation he probably would have said as much.

“For,” Otabek waved his hand around, taking a few steps back, “This.”

Yuri struggled to stand, the ache in his knees forcing him to wince. “I suck your cock because I want to and you’re sorry?”

“I didn’t-” Otabek’s face flushed red. So red that Yuri could see it in the faint twinkling lights. “I’m sorry.”

Just like that, he was back to being stone. Yuri had never felt so empty, so used. He had been stupid to think that Otabek would have comforted him afterward.

Foolish, even.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire work is inspired by How to Bang a Billionaire. This chapter is especially influenced by it - there's a part in the book that REALLY inspired me, so this chapter is super heavily based off of it. I twisted it into my own style even if the scenes are nearly identical. (It's a GREAT book btw. Series, even, it's only $5 for Kindle!)


	7. Chapter 7

Yuri knew he had overstepped so many boundaries. He knew he had fucked up the moment Otabek turned his back and walked away. He had followed behind like a wounded puppy, swiping at his tears.

He considered kicking the back of Otabek’s legs as he followed him. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to cause a scene in the middle of the ridiculously gaudy party, but he knew he would only make himself look silly.

But he wasn’t angry, he was hurt. As little as he knew Otabek, he gathered that he was polite and gentle, nothing like the attitude he was radiating. Yuri wasn’t sure whether Otabek was angry at him or himself, and that hurt the most.

Leo had let him out of the car in front of the dorms, Otabek never meeting his eyes. He had stared at the window the entire car ride, rigid and cold. Yuri had gone from blaming Otabek to blaming himself, and any attempt he made at trying to talk to Otabek was greeted with a steely silence.

He’d hoped to spend another night with Otabek, to forgo his family’s Christmas celebration altogether. Yuri decided he’d rather spend time with them than alone in his dorm, so he chose to go in the end. He caught a late night bus after packing his things, ignoring the gnawing pain in his stomach.

It was nearly dawn when the cab pulled up the driveway, the warm familiarity of his childhood home looming over him. 

It was early, and Yuri knew his mother would be in the kitchen cooking breakfast as she did every Christmas day since he was a child. That carried well into adulthood, as his parents both refused to allow any of the help to work on holidays. He hesitated before ringing the doorbell, breathing warmth between his hands as he waited.

He was met with the rush of heat and a warm embrace, thin arms pulling him into a bone-breaking hug. In any normal circumstance, Yuri would protest and push away, but he hugged back. It was an overwhelming feeling,  _ home _ , and the tears he had been holding in fell down his cheeks.

“Yuri, what the hell did you get yourself into this time? You’re a mess.” 

“Good to see you too,” Yuri mumbled, prying himself from the embrace. He wiped his tears with the sleeve of his coat, shifting the weight of his bag from one shoulder to the other.

It was disorienting to see the two of them together - both with shocking green eyes and platinum blonde hair with sharp features and lean builds. Yuri’s hair was a bit longer though, Yulian always choosing to buzz his almost entirely off. Yuri always scoffed at his twins’ questionable fashion choices.

“I thought you weren’t coming home for Christmas. Mom moped around the house last night mumbling about her  _ baby Yura _ and how this would be the first Christmas you wouldn’t be here.” Yulian smiled, pressing his hand to Yuri’s cheek. Yuri rolled his eyes and pushed past him, dropping his bag in the entryway.

He shuffled towards the kitchen, Yulian following close behind. Breakfast had already started, piles of fluffy pancakes and bowls of fresh fruit littering the table. Yuri’s stomach growled, he hadn’t eaten anything since the night before.

One of the many reasons he felt hollowed out, he was sure.

“Yuratchka,” His mother said softly, pulling him in to kiss his forehead. He forced a smile, the lump in his throat growing. 

Breakfast rolled by rather quickly, and Yuri stuffed himself with pancakes and strawberries. He ignored the way Yulian and his girlfriend fed one another whipped cream, his eyes focusing instead on his father at the other end of the table.

They got along well, but there were times when Yuri understood that there were a lot of things about himself that his father didn’t care much for. Being gay was probably only one thing on the list of many.

Yuri nearly spat out his orange juice when Yulian announced that his girlfriend was pregnant. His eyes immediately darted down the table towards his father. He wasn’t sure what he had expected. Annoyance? Disappointment? 

No, Yulian was his  _ golden  _ child. He could never do wrong.

His mother had stood to coo over Tiffany and the baby bump that was probably not even existent yet, but Yuri heard the words his father said over the commotion.

_ At least one of our children will bring us grandkids. _

Yuri fought with himself to ignore it. To finish off his pancakes and pretend he didn’t hear it.

He couldn’t.

“You know gay couples can adopt now, right,  _ papa _ ?” Yuri didn’t drop his stare, fork gripped between his fingers. He almost regretted coming out to his family. He was always close with his father, but his coming out had created a rift between them.

“Yuratchka-” His mother began, but Yuri ignored her.

“No, I want to hear it. I want to hear why papa thinks I am incapable of having children.  Debilitating erectile dysfunction? No! Yuri’s gay! Gay people can’t have children!” Yuri dropped his fork, shoving his chair away from the table. As always, he had to start drama in one way or another. It never failed, even when he tried so hard to bite his tongue around his father. “Being gay isn’t the reason I don’t want to have kids.” Yuri spat, spinning on his heels to leave the room.

Only Yuri would find a way to turn an exciting pregnancy announcement into an argument with his father. His anger ebbed into embarrassment the longer he sat on the edge of his bed. He swept the walls with his gaze, eyeing the pieces of his past. Old friends of whom he no longer spoke to, camps he attended over summer vacations, trophies from years of ballet.

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. When had everything gone so wrong? When did holidays become a time where he had to tiptoe on eggshells and pretend he wasn’t gay? He never quite understood why his father cared so much about who he boned or didn’t bone.

The door swung open without so much as a knock, Yulian leaning against the doorframe with a frown on his face. Yuri lazily tilted his head towards him.

“No ‘congrats bro, I’ve always wanted to be an uncle!’?” Yulian asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Yuri nearly cracked a smile. “We all knew, you know,” Yulian started, scratching his head but not moving any closer to Yuri. “That you were gay. I don’t think mentioning that a Prince from a Disney movie was your crush was exactly inconspicuous.” 

“Not a Prince. Li Shang. From Mulan.” Yuri shot back, trying to fight the smile trembling on his lips.

“Yeah, well. While the rest of us gawked over hot women, you had a crush on the kid from Malcolm in the Middle.” Yulian paused before pushing away from the doorframe. “Our parents knew, even if dad tried to ignore it. He doesn’t hate you, he just.. Needs time.”

“He’s had plenty of time. I’ve been gay my whole life, it’s not like I just decided to be fucking gay one day.”

Yulian laughed, flopping down onto the bed next to Yuri. “Maybe so, but in his mind, you did.”

“It’s 2018, do people really still think that’s a thing?”

“Dad is older than dirt. Old people still think it’s not their fault most of our generation is eating so much avocado toast and racking up crippling student loan debt while living with their parents.”

Yuri laughed then, tilting his head back to stare up at the ceiling. He knew his father loved him, but it didn’t make anything any easier. He would likely never understand the hatred toward Yuri’s being gay.

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

 

Yuri stayed through the holidays, which turned into a blur of reminiscing with his twin and trying his hardest not to set his father off. They definitely got along a lot better when Yuri ignored his harsh remarks about his sexuality.

It annoyed him to let things slide, but he did anyway.

He had practically forgotten about Otabek. Forgotten about the way he was treated like a toy, used and then forgotten. Forgotten about the way Otabek had opened to him only to close back up just as quickly.

Until he returned home. Until Mila slapped the latest  _ Times _ magazine on the table in front of him in the cafeteria. He stared at it for a moment before it registered.

Otabek. On the cover. 

**_MEET NEW YORK’S YOUNGEST BILLIONAIRE._ **

Yuri’s eyes widened. “What the fuck? I knew he was rich, but I didn’t know he was  _ catch me on the cover of Times  _ rich.”

“I read the article,” Mila said, snatching back the magazine to flip it open. “He’s a majority shareholder in a shitload of big corporations. I think he even has a fiancee.”

Yuri nearly ripped the magazine in half trying to retrieve it. Sure enough, there was a photo of Otabek with a woman draped over his arm. 

He gritted his teeth, skimming through the article. All of the emotions he had felt prior to his trip back home ripped through him at once. 

“Holy shit,” Was all he could manage, nausea forcing him to swallow. 

Yuri left behind a very concerned Mila, gripping the magazine with whitened knuckles. He nearly puked in the bushes on his treck back to his room. His eyes watered and his nose ran, a mixture of the cold and his emotions brewing over. He slammed into his room, relieved to see that Georgi wasn’t back from his class yet.

He called Otabek the moment he was inside, sliding down the door to the floor.

It rang once before going immediately to voicemail. Yuri wasn’t sure what he had expected. Otabek to answer and pretend that night had never happened?

He was infuriated.

He called again, fingers trembling as the anger bubbled within him. A fiancee? Why the fuck hadn’t he heard of this before?

“Hello this is Otabek Al-” Yuri hung up before the voicemail even finished. He squeezed his eyes shut until stars burst behind them. He had never been so angry. Even his father had never upset him as much as he was then.

He tossed his phone on the floor before taking off, running from his dorm. He nearly slipped on a patch of ice when he skidded around the corner towards the bus, the magazine still grasped in his fingers. 

The bus ride was short, but for Yuri, it felt like an eternity. His knuckles whitened as he held onto the pole, eyes wide as he stared out the window. Waiting for his stop, waiting for the building Otabek owned to appear in his view.

He darted off the bus, holding the magazine up in front of a building he has passed many times over the past couple of years. It matched the picture exactly. 

Yuri nearly crashed into the front desk, breathless and panting as he explained that he needed to see Otabek.

“Mr. Altin is in a meeting right now-”

Yuri didn’t wait for her to finish, eyeballing the large entry before he spotted the stairs. He took off towards them, ignoring the yelling for him to stop. 

He thought his lungs were going to give out when he finally reached the top floor. He had known if this was anything like the movies, Otabek would be on the top floor. Probably in a glass office with a high-backed chair and a sexy secretary.

None of those things ended up being true.

“Mr. Altin is in a meeting, can I help you?” Asked an older woman, of whom Yuri assumed was Otabek’s sexy secretary.

Any other time he might have had a chuckle, but right then, he was sweating, panting, and annoyed.

“Tell him Yuri is here. I need to speak to him. It’s urgent.”

“I can’t do that, you’re going to have to schedule an appointment.”

Again, Yuri ignored this, choosing against his better judgment to bolt through the door to the left of her desk. She made no attempt to stop him, but Yuri was certain Otabek had security guards and she was likely going to call them.

He flew down the hallway, stopping to check in every room until he peeked into one where Otabek was. Perfect suit, perfect hair, and  _ holy shit _ he spotted Yuri the moment he stopped in front of the door.

Yuri glared at him until he paused his meeting to answer the door. Stepping into the hall, his face showed every ounce of his annoyance with Yuri’s presence in his office.

“Yuri, this is my workplace. You can’t just show up here unannounced.”

“You haven’t spoken to me since- that  _ night _ ,” Yuri said quietly. All the confidence he had the entire way there slipped through the cracks in the floor the moment Otabek stood before him.

“So you decide to come to my place of business instead of leaving a voicemail?” Otabek asked. His voice lacked any of the softness it usually held when he spoke to Yuri. Yuri frowned at this, eyes trailing the floor near Otabek’s feet.

“You wouldn’t have listened to it.”

Otabek sighed, “Go down the hall and wait in my office. We can talk in a moment.”

Yuri watched him slip back into the room, lip quivering before he turned to find Otabek’s office. He slid into the cold leather chair in front of Otabek’s desk, glaring down at the magazine in his hands.

“Is that why you’re here?” Otabek asked, startling Yuri. Yuri looked up at him, locks of his hair falling into his eyes.

“You have a fiancee?”

“No, I don’t.” Otabek paused briefly before crouching before him, forcing Yuri to meet his gaze. “She’s a long-time business partner. If you actually read the article you would have seen that.”

“Oh.” Yuri felt relieved, but seeing Otabek’s face again made him every bit of hurt he had the last time he saw him.

“Yuri, about-” Otabek began, but Yuri shook his head.

“I don’t need you to apologize. I liked it. I liked having your dick in my throat and I swear if you fucking apologize again I’m going to lose it.”

Otabek’s face flushed scarlet as Yuri continued, “When you shove your cock in someone’s throat and force them to swallow your cum you should probably comfort them afterward, not apologize and then ignore them like an asshole.” Tears welled in his eyes, but he didn’t break their gaze.

“That’s not.. I’m not sorry about what happened,” Otabek sounded calm and collected, even through the embarrassment that shone on his face. “I was embarrassed by my behavior. I was embarrassed that the first time I enjoyed something like that was so.. Dirty. That wasn’t how I pictured anything.”

“Don’t be,” Yuri said, hand moving to rest on Otabek’s face. Otabek turned his head, so Yuri’s hand dropped back down. “I liked it. You liked it. Next time you use me like a jizz sock I would like it if you comforted me a little, though.”

“I don’t plan on that happening again.” Otabek curtly replied. Yuri furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t think we should continue this anymore, Yuri.”

“Why not?”

“You pulled something dark from me that night, Yuri. I’m afraid of the things I could be capable of. That isn’t me, and I don’t want you to see that.”

Yuri stood, opening his mouth to reply. Otabek cut him off.

“Please. Just leave.”

Yuri stared at him, open-mouthed. He felt the blood drain from his face. Otabek simply looked back, any emotions hidden from view. He was cold and beautiful, hands tucked neatly into his pockets.

Yuri threw the magazine at the ground before Otabek’s feet then turned and kicked the chair over onto its side.

“Fuck you,” Yuri spat. “Fuck you and everything about you.”

He left without another word, but not before knocking things off Otabek’s desk.


	8. Chapter 8

Before, everything was easy. Yuri found solace in the little things. Like sitting on the floor of Leroy’s office while he complained about ramen for the umpteenth time. Or sitting on Mila’s bed in the middle of the night watching stupid soap operas and eating popcorn.

Or thinking about Leroy.

All of him.

His tilted smile, his high cheekbones, the way his lips curled in a _way_ when Yuri caught him staring. The way his glasses perched on his nose, his long eyelashes fluttering when Yuri moved close.

The way his fingers scraped over Yuri’s skin, mapping his body, memorizing it. The bits of hair that fell into his face.

The flush of his cheeks when Yuri whispered how beautiful he was. The short curls of hair on his chest and the thick line of it that trailed into his waistband. The way he spoke, words whispered into Yuri’s ear when they were close.

When had everything become so difficult?

It was late. It was dark. The campus was quiet and still, only the rush of cars on a highway far enough away to be nothing more than a whisper riding the winds.

Yuri stared at the door, willed it to open. Willed his hands to move and pull open the door instead of hiding in his pockets.

He needed to see Leroy. He needed it now more than ever. He wanted to feel his hair in his fingers and-

Yuri breathed, watching it float away. Up, up, out of view. He curled his fingers before prying his hand from his pocket, pulling the door open.

He stalked up the stairs, slowly. Almost as if his footsteps would spook Leroy away if he heard them.

Maybe they would.

He was at the door in no time, pressing his gloved hand against the wooden door. He traced Leroy’s name with his fingertips, letting out a breath.

“Who’s there?”

Yuri _keened_. He hadn’t heard Leroy’s voice in so long. It stirred something inside of him.

He leaned his forehead against the door, attempting to still his trembling fingers. He breathed. In, out, in, out. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and he almost believed that Leroy could hear it too. Through his skin and the wood, a rhythm that gave him away.

“It’s me.”

It was all he said, all he had to say. The door opened and Yuri stumbled forward with the sudden loss of his support.

Leroy stared. Stared with those big blue eyes, framed with thick glasses and even thicker eyebrows. The lines around the corners, years of smiling and happiness and joy that Yuri had only fleetingly been a part of.

His heart was pounding in his chest. Pounding in his ears. It was all he could hear.

He stared back. Green eyes, flushed cheeks, pink lips.

Waiting.

For what, he wasn’t sure.

“Hello, Yuri.”

Yuri surged forward. Forward into the warmth, the familiarity. He rubbed his face into Leroy’s sweater, all snot and tears. He cried. Big, heaving sobs, rolling through him as they threatened to tear him in two. He felt all his sorrow at once, like the smell of Leroy’s sweater reminded him.

Maybe it did.

He relished in the careful fingers dragging through his hair. The quiet whisper of _shh_. Leroy just held him. No words needed to be spoken. He just held Yuri, and Yuri held him.

His fingers grasped at the back of Leroy’s sweater, the fabric soft and plushy between his fingers. He was alive, he was here. Leroy was here. Everything would be okay.

He pulled back, searching. Searching Leroy’s eyes for something, _anything_. They were warm and concerned, face pulled tight as he searched back.

Yuri let out a huff. An almost laugh, the kind that forces its way out after you’ve cried and you realize you look silly. Or that your crying is silly.

Leroy brushed the tears away with the pads of his thumbs, Yuri still holding his sweater so tightly between his fingers. Like if he let go, Leroy would be gone.

He moved his face closer, eyes trained on Leroy’s lips. Those soft, velvety lips. He hesitated, expecting Leroy to move back, but when he didn’t, Yuri moved in.

Leroy’s lips were pliant, soft and willing to take what Yuri had to give. Yuri’s fingers curled into the hair just behind Leroy’s ears, his thumb brushing over the shell of them. Leroy shuddered in response. Yuri felt it, a groan ripping from his throat.

He backed Leroy into the wall, their kiss hot and heavy. Wanting more. Wanting to suck the breath from Leroy’s lungs, to take him and not let him go.

He pulled back, a string of saliva trailing between their lips. Yuri focused, eyes watching the rise and fall of Leroy’s chest. Watching the way his tongue flicked across his lips. The way his glasses slid further down his nose.

The way his pupils were blown out, nearly covering the expanse of blue that surrounded them.

Yuri trailed his hands down Leroy’s arms, grabbing his wrists and pinning them both over his head. He was trapped, but he didn’t look it. He looked ready and willing, his hips moving forward to find Yuri’s. To find friction somewhere in between them.

It was funny, then, at that moment. All the times Leroy had whispered _we can’t do this_ and his certain tone the last time he had whispered it into Yuri’s skin like a promise. Yuri was certain this was over.

The way Leroy stared at him, unfocused and horny, fucking at the air with his hips with quiet gasps escaping his lips told a different story. He was as over this as Yuri was.

Yuri tightened his grip on Leroy’s wrists, leaning forward. Leroy looked so beautiful. He whispered careful words into his ear, smiling when Leroy trembled with every ghost of his breath.

 _I thought you were over this_.

_I thought this was done._

_This is the last time, you said._

_We can’t do this anymore._

_I barely touched you and you’re already coming undone._

He didn’t answer Yuri, but Yuri hadn’t expected him to. His free hand slid up Leroy’s abdomen. Up his chest, stopping at his neck. Yuri feathered his fingers over his Adam’s apple, over the column of his throat. He smiled when Leroy swallowed, eyes watching Yuri’s every movement.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Yuri whispered, fingers tracing the sharp edges of Leroy’s jawline. Leroy flinched, but the guttural growl in his throat gave Yuri all he needed. “I’m going to fuck you because I _need_ this. I’m going to fuck you right here and then I’m going to leave. I won’t bother you ever again. You can have your wife and your kids and your fucking picket fence. But first I _need this._ ”

Yuri bored holes into Leroy’s eyes, but their gaze never faltered. Leroy nodded.

“ _Okay. Yes._ ”

Yuri let go of Leroy’s hands, hissing when they knotted in his hair. He licked and sucked at Leroy’s jaw, trailing down his throat. Leroy tilted his head back, the quiet gasps of Yuri’s name spurring him on. The fingers in his hair tightened as he sucked a mark into Leroy’s skin.

He wanted Leroy to remember him. Until it faded and all was forgotten, he wanted him to _remember_.

Yuri enjoyed the pattering pulse against his lips. He licked at it, fingers curled into the hem of Leroy’s sweater. He wanted it off. _Now_.

Leroy obliged, untangling his fingers from Yuri’s locks to pull it clumsily over his head. His biceps flexed. Yuri licked his lips.

There was so much exposed skin and Yuri wanted to kiss it all. He wanted to memorize it so he never forgot. He thumbed the little scar on Leroy’s hip, the one he said he had gotten when he had fallen off his bike as a child. Kissed the little mole near his belly button, the one that Yuri always poked at when they laid together. He felt Leroy’s muscles flex, his stomach tighten. Yuri continued his ministrations, licking and nipping at every inch of skin he could reach. Leroy’s arms, behind his ears, the tip of his nose.

Yuri pressed into him, chest to chest. He could feel the outline of Leroy’s hardened cock against his own. He gritted his teeth and grinded into him, hands finding purchase on Leroy’s hips.

He buried his face into Leroy’s shoulder and breathed. He could hear Leroy’s heartbeat, loud and clear. Or maybe it was his own. He was filled with lust and want, an overwhelming desire to _own_ Leroy clouding his thoughts.

Yuri swiftly unbuttoned Leroy’s pants, tugging them down. Down with his briefs. Down over his hairy thighs, of which he trailed his tongue over on his way down. Over his knees and down his calves. Leroy lifted his feet, one at a time, allowing the pants to be discarded.

Yuri knelt before him. Looked up at him between his lashes, hands clasping around Leroy’s calves. The muscles pulled and tightened, Leroy sucking a breath through his teeth. Yuri moved then, his lips paving a path over the tops of Leroy’s feet, over his shins, his knees, his thighs. His tongue lapped at the grooves between his thigh and his groin, and he smiled when he felt Leroy’s stance falter.

His knees began to hurt, but he ignored them. All he was at that moment was sex and _desire_.

He was hot, feeling the familiar stickiness of sweat between his skin and his shirt. He shed his shirt, dropping somewhere off to the side where his gloves and his coat had wound up prior.

Then he continued, tongue teasingly lapping at the head of Leroy’s cock. The sound that tripped over Leroy’s lips made Yuri swoon. Blunt nails dug into his shoulders as he pulled Leroy’s cock into his mouth. Slowly, carefully, every drag of it against his tongue and the hollow of his cheeks nearly made his eyes roll back in his head.

He nosed at Leroy’s pubes. Breathed in, smelling him, _feeling_ him.

Leroy whined something akin to _please_ , but it sounded garbled and Yuri loved it. He loved taking his professor apart. He loved knowing he was the only one who could do this to him. He reveled in it, _bathed_ in it. Wanted to laugh in Isabella’s face and tell her she could never suck his cock like Yuri did.

He hummed, pulling back, popping Leroy’s dick from his mouth. Strings of saliva connected it to him still, his eyes drifting up, up to stare at Leroy’s face. He was slack-jawed and wide eyed, trembling above Yuri as if his knees were going to give.

Yuri pulled him into his mouth again. He dug his fingers bruisingly into Leroy’s thighs. He _hoped_ they left marks.

Oh God, how his knees _ached_.

“ _Oh, Yuri. You’re so good with that mouth. Jesus fucking-”_

His words were breathy, his hips stuttering as he tried so hard to force his cock further down Yuri’s throat. Yuri gagged and choked, spit slipping down his chin as Leroy fucked into his mouth. He hummed around it, the nails in his shoulders piercing into his skin. He felt his own cock stiff in his jeans, pressing against the denim with impossible force.

_It hurt so fucking good._

One of Yuri’s hands cupped at Leroy’s balls, massaging them gently in the way that he knew Leroy loved. The way that made him _weak_ , he had told Yuri. Leroy’s thrusts were slowing, his breath was shallow and rapid, and Yuri knew he was about to tumble over the cusp of his orgasm.

Yuri wasn’t going to let him.

Not yet.

Not when he wasn’t finished.

He pulled back, Leroy’s cock slipping from his lips. Yuri rubbed his jaw. It ached something fierce, but it was borderline _pleasurable_.

“You can’t cum yet,” Yuri said, voice hoarse but commanding. Yuri swore the sound Leroy made was a whimper.

He stood, unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down with his briefs. He kicked them both off to the side before he reached for Leroy’s hand. He moved it to his cock, groaning when the warmth of his hand encapsulated it. Leroy stroked it slowly, but tightly enough to set Yuri’s teeth on edge. He pressed forward, his forehead dropping to rest on Leroy’s shoulder. He left barely any space between them for Leroy to stroke him off, but he didn’t care.

“ _I want you to fuck me. I want you to fold me in half and shove your cock so far inside of me that I-”_

Yuri cut him off, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. It was toothy and wet, Yuri wanting every part of himself to be touching him. He gasped at every gentle tug of his cock and Leroy swallowed each one.

He found himself rutting into Leroy, trapping his hands on his cock between them. Rutted against Leroy’s cock, the groove between his thigh and his groin, against the rough patch of pubic hair.

Yuri was going to make sure that Leroy couldn’t walk straight for a week. He told him this and Leroy _moaned_.

Yuri flipped Leroy around, bending him over. Leroy’s hands braced against the wall and Yuri growled again. He watched a bead of sweat trail down Leroy’s back, and he leaned forward to lick it with a long drag of his tongue.

He kissed the spot he licked, then kissed and kissed, down until he reached Leroy’s ass. His ass that was so proudly on display. Yuri licked his lips before spreading his cheeks with both hands and running his tongue up the length of his crack, over his hole, and back down. He plunged his tongue into the hole, feeling it clench around him. He breathed in. He loved the smell of Leroy. All man and musk, spice and sweat.

Leroy was trembling, his little cries of Yuri’s name the sweetest song Yuri had ever heard. He hummed with contempt, his tongue slipping in and out of Leroy’s hole. He loved the way it clenched and unclenched, and the way Leroy tried to buck backwards into him.

 _I need more_. He whispered.

Yuri tugged Leroy by the hair, up until his back was flush with his chest. He licked the shell of Leroy’s ear, slowly, one arm clenched in his hair and the other wrapped around his chest.

“ _How badly_ ?” He whispered. Leroy pushed back into him, dragging his ass so obscenely over Yuri’s hardened cock. Yuri nipped his ear. “ _Answer the question_.”

“Please fuck me,” Leroy breathed, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Yuri hummed, pleased with the answer.

He bent Leroy over the arm of the couch. He grabbed the small bottle of lube from his coat. He had Leroy’s hole and his cock slick in record time.

He didn’t even have the mindset to realize that this was the first time he had ever been the one to do the fucking. At least with Leroy.

And the last time.

He pressed in with ease. He admired the way Leroy’s hole sucked him in, greedy for his cock. He whispered just that into Leroy’s spine as he arched over him. His toes curled into the carpet, his fingers dug more bruises into Leroy’s side.

Then he fucked his professor. Hard. With all the hatred and anger and sorrow that burned in his chest. He fucked him open, slapped his ass, bit the back of his neck. He wrapped his hand around Leroy’s body and pulled him close, whispered that he was _perfect_ and _beautiful_.

That he loved him.

Leroy was too far gone to hear that part. To register it. To understand the heaviness of the words Yuri whispered into the arch of his spine.

Leroy came messily beneath the weight of his own body. With the friction of Yuri’s thrusts forcing his cock to rub against his stomach and the rough fabric of the couch.

Yuri’s thrusted once, twice, burying himself inside of Leroy as he came with a cry.

His face was wet with tears he didn’t know he had been crying and his chest heaved. He didn’t move. He stayed balls deep inside of his professor. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want this to end.

Didn’t want to face reality.

Hunching over, Yuri lay his cheek against Leroy’s shoulder. Leroy, who had slumped over the arm bonelessly. Leroy who was breathing steadily, his face buried in the couch.

“Yuri, I-” Came the breathless response, muffled by the couch. Yuri breathed in. The smell of sex, the sweat, the cologne, the _familiarity_.

“Don’t,” Yuri whispered. He had no more tears to cry. He still felt raw and empty, broken down by things beyond his control. He didn’t want to see Leroy’s face. He didn’t want Leroy to see his.

“I heard-”

“Don’t,” Yuri warned, again. He shifted, sliding himself from inside of Leroy. It was cold, then. Cold and empty and _sad_.

“Yuri,” Leroy said again, this time with more force in his wobbly voice. He had managed to turn, to stand, even though he quivered and held onto the couch for support. “I’m sorry.”

Yuri looked at him. At the hair matted to his forehead. At the sheen of sweat on his chest. At the cum stuck to his pubes, his happy trail, his skin. At the way his eyes shined in the light. At the way his lips curled into a frown. 

Yuri smiled. A sad smile, one that threatened to bring tears with it.

“I know.”

And then he left.


	9. Chapter 9

A package arrived. Georgi had brought it in.

There it sat, on Yuri’s bed. In a neatly packaged box with his name in cursive. His heart skipped a beat when he saw who it was from.

Otabek Altin.

He traced his fingers over the cursive, almost as if he could touch Otabek through them. He picked up the box, small in his hands. He smelled it, hoping to smell Otabek.

He could, or so he thought.

He stared at it. He wanted to hate it. He wanted to set it on fire and watch as the cardboard curled and burned. Along with the flowers on his desk. The ones that appeared with the box. The ones that he assumed were also from Otabek.

Yuri sat on his bed and held the box. Away from himself this time. He wanted to open it, despite everything.

He was tired of goodbyes.

Yuri finally caved, tearing open the tape with his key. It popped open and inside was another box. Small, surrounded by packing peanuts with a small note.

Yuri stared. He picked up the note and squinted.

_ I’m sorry _ .

In neat, cursive letters.

Yuri laughed, but not really.

He was really tired of those words.

He dropped the note back into the box and pulled out the smaller one. It was soft between his fingers, like of those fancy boxes you put engagement rings into. Yuri knew it wasn’t going to be a ring.

He opened it, slowly, carefully, eyes barely open as if something was going to jump out of the box and onto his face. He held his breath when the gold glinted in the light of his lamp.

He wanted to puke.

It was a watch, not unlike the one Otabek wore. Expensive and very gold. Yuri pulled it from its little home and dropped the entire package to the ground, peanuts flying in every direction. He pulled on the watch, amazed that it fit his thin wrist. Otabek probably knew.

Yuri sat there until the sun went down. Until the slivers of sunlight disappeared and the moon was bright in the sky. Until Georgi stepped inside and  _ tsked _ about the packing peanuts and Yuri’s mess and  _ holy shit is that a fucking Rolex? _

Yuri just shrugged and stood from his bed. He stretched his legs and blinked a few times, eyes focusing on Georgi’s face. 

“I guess it is.”

Yuri was used to expensive things. He  _ owned  _ expensive things. None of them ever came with the pain this one did.

He considered selling it at the pawn shop. For a lot less than it was worth. Just because  _ fuck  _ Otabek.

He also considered driving to Otabek’s building and shoving it-

He probably wouldn’t, though. He would keep it. Heavy and cold on his wrist. 

A reminder of the  _ other  _ asshole that scorned him.

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

  
  


“I’m trying to listen to you, Yuri, I really am, but you’re swinging your arms around and all I see is that watch on your arm and I just  _ can’t _ hear you anymore.”

Yuri snarled at Mila, dropping his hands into his lap. He hadn’t taken the watch off since he got it over a month prior except to sleep and shower. It was a part of him in a way. 

“It’s not new.”

“I know but I’m telling you that it’s hard to look at anything but the  _ fucking watch _ .”

Mila had fondly started referring to it as  _ that fucking watch _ and Yuri smiled every time. It was  _ that fucking watch _ , but it was also his constant reminder that life isn’t perfect and neither is he. Otabek Altin sure as hell wasn’t either.

“When do you think they’re getting married?” Yuri asked, eyes trained on the back of his former lover. On the way Isabella’s arm was touching it. He felt a jab of sadness, but it was only for a moment, drifting away until he felt nothing.

He had taken his memories of Leroy and shoved them into a box. A box that he taped shut a thousand times and hid deep in his closet.

That night and his whispered  _ I love you _ seemed like a century ago.

“Oh,  _ Yuri _ ,” Mila said quietly. Yuri didn’t even have to look at her to know her face was full of sympathy. He didn’t like that.

Yuri laughed, but not really. He touched the watch on his arm and sighed.

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

 

Winter ended. The flowers Otabek sent wilted and died.

Yuri felt happy again. At least, happier than he had been. He felt a little guilty about that, thinking maybe he should mourn a little longer. Mourn his first love. Mourn the something that could have been.

Yuri still wore the watch, even when long sleeves were no longer proper attire for the weather. Even when it shined so brightly on his wrist, gaudy and ridiculous when paired with his casual shorts and t-shirt. Every time he touched it he felt just a little bit sad.

The end of the semester was looming over him. He wanted to enjoy his last bit of freedom before he had to get a job, a place to live, a  _ life _ .

Yuri had been applying for jobs. He had a lot of internship under his belt from previous years and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he got one. He even used LinkedIn like a real adult. He didn’t really feel like a real adult, though.

He ended up on Otabek’s profile more often than he would ever admit to. The picture would update from time to time, and it did nothing to make Yuri feel any better. He would touch his watch and sigh as he always did, wishing he were back in the courtyard. Yuri would take everything back just to spend a little more time with Otabek.

The pictures ranged from Otabek in his suit to Otabek somewhere really fucking fancy. Did Otabek travel overseas? Maybe.  _ Likely _ .

Yuri imagined all the places he could have seen and all the things he could have done. If only he had kept his hands to himself and his tongue in his goddamn mouth.

Yuri was aware he was going to spend the rest of his semester drooling over Otabek’s LinkedIn or staring daggers at Leroy’s back.

_ You should date again _ , Mila had said. Yuri just pursed his lips.

“Remember the last time I dated?”

“That wasn’t really  _ dating _ , that was having a sugar daddy,” Mila paused, a smile playing on her lips. “You could do that again.”

Yuri snorted. “No one wants to date me, Mila. I’m damaged goods. Nobody likes damaged goods.”

Mila held his face in her hands, squishing his cheeks until his lips popped out. Like a comical fish. “Lots of people want to date you.”

“Oh yeah?” Yuri asked, but it sounded more like  _ uh yuh _ with a lilt at the end. Mila smiled and let go of his face.

“Yeah,” She said. “I have  _ friends _ . Friends with eyes. You’re hot, Yuri. You’re not very self-aware.”

Yuri pursed his lips again, thrumming his fingers against them. “Yeah? How come you never try to set me up with any of them?”

Mila threw a fry at him. He caught it and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Well, only one of them is a guy. I don’t think you’d be interested in the women. You’re pretty fucking gay.”

Yuri laughed. It was a real laugh, one that vibrated through him and made him forget about the heavy watch on his hand. “At this point, maybe I would be better off with a woman.”

Another fry was lobbed at his face. Yuri laughed and laughed.

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

  
  


Another box came in the middle of April. This one was bigger and topped with a bow. Georgi had told Yuri that he  _ wasn’t a fucking butler  _ and  _ get your own fucking mail, Plisetsky _ . Yuri just slapped his ass and opened the box without reading the name. Georgi watched, face reddened.

Inside was a suit. Not just any suit, but  _ the  _ suit. The one Yuri had worn on his first  _ real  _ date with Otabek.

He froze. Dropped it back into the box and pushed it away. Georgi’s hand ended up on his shoulder and Yuri snapped at him. He hadn’t meant to, but the  _ suit _ . It brought back all of those feelings. The anger, the sadness, the  _ emptiness _ . All of the things Yuri had packed up and shoved so far back that he had forgotten about it all. 

Except for the watch, as the watch was- It just  _ was _ .

“Does the suit have a disease?”

“Shut up,” Yuri mumbled. He didn’t touch the box again after stuffing it under his bed.

Within the week, there was a knock at his door. One, two, three raps of knuckles against wood.

Yuri woke with a start and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He looked over to find that Georgi’s bed was empty and the realization that he was going to have to answer the door. He groaned and rolled over.

One, two, three more raps against the door.

“Go away.” Yuri had said.

“Yuri, please.”

Yuri knew that voice. He froze and wished he hadn’t said anything.

“I know you’re in there,” Came the voice. There was a thump, but it was quiet. Whoever it was or wasn’t was probably leaning against the door with their hands, waiting for Yuri to respond.

“Fuck off,” Yuri said, tugging the blankets over his head. He refused to get up. He wasn’t going to answer the door in his pajamas with his hair a mess just because Otabek  _ fucking  _ Altin decided to show up.

A sigh, quiet, but loud enough to reach Yuri where he hid under the blankets. He squeezed his eyes shut and thought maybe this was a dream. A weird dream, but a dream.

“ _ Yura _ .”

He felt it again. The twinge in his chest. The desire to rip open the door and answer him. He shivered and curled into a ball.

“You have a lot of nerve showing up here,” Yuri responded. It was probably muffled by the blanket over his face, but the noise Otabek made let him know that he heard it nonetheless.

“Yuri, I-” He paused, and Yuri heard him shift his weight. Sigh. “I’ve missed you.”

Yuri sat up then. He laughed. It was loud and obnoxious, the chortle that erupted from him the minute the blanket was off of his face.

“You’ve missed me. So you think you can just send me a fucking suit and then show up at my door. Expect me to forgive you and what you did to me. Expect me to understand just because you’re Otabek  _ fucking  _ Altin and you’re  _ New York’s most eligible bachelor  _ and women swarm you and lick your toes,” Yuri paused, hand sliding down his face. “That’s not how this works. You don’t get to do that.”

“Yuri please just talk to me.”

Yuri slid off the bed. He grabbed the heavy watch from his dresser and the box from under his bed. He ripped open the door, startling Otabek. 

Yuri stared at him for a moment too long.

Dazzled by that  _ goddamn _ lock of hair that fell into his face. By the shape of his jaw and the way he held himself. By his presence, his overwhelming presence. The way he made Yuri want to  _ swoon  _ and-

Yuri launched the box at him. It hit him in the chest. Startled him again. Yuri felt a little pleased by that.

“Fuck you, Otabek Altin.” He gritted through clenched teeth. 

Otabek just looked at him. Yuri could see the pain in his eyes and the guilt lining his face. He felt that twinge of sadness again, but he wasn’t going to fall for it.

He moved forward before he was even aware of it, with just a few steps until he was close enough to touch Otabek. Touch him he did, a flurry of fists into his chest as he said  _ fuck you _ over and over. He felt the anger and the sadness, the pain and the emptiness. 

He wanted Otabek to feel it too.

Otabek let Yuri hit him. Yuri knew it. He stood there and took what Yuri dished out. All of it, every fist and spat word that Yuri threw at him.

Then, then he’d had enough. He gripped Yuri’s wrists between his fingers with ease, holding them still. Yuri tried to fight it, kicking his legs out and  _ sobbing  _ because  _ fuck you Otabek you piece of shit  _ and  _ Otabek fucking Altin is a shithead. _

“Yuri, I’m sorry,” Otabek said. Yuri felt a flash of anger.

He spat at Otabek.

A large, wet glob.

It landed on his cheek.

“I deserve this,” Otabek said. 

Yuri watched that globule slide down his cheek. 

He glared at Otabek, trying to writhe from his grasp.

“Fuck you.”

“Yuri, would you please just listen to me. You’re an adult, not a  _ child _ .”

Yuri laughed again. Tilted his head back and cackled maniacally. “Who the fuck are you to be saying that to  _ me _ ?” Yuri was ready to go on his rant again, but the look in Otabek’s eyes made him stop short. The words tripped and died before even leaving his lips.

“I was scared of this. Of us, of  _ you _ .” He stared at Yuri and Yuri stared back. “I told you when we first met that this was going to be a simple relationship. I give you money and you just give me companionship.”

“You  _ have  _ a dog.”

Otabek ignored that and continued. “I don’t do sexual things. I don’t  _ feel _ sexual feelings. I didn’t want that with you, at least, not at first. If our relationship ever ended up there I wanted it to be meaningful. I would have courted you and bought you flowers and pretty things. I would have been gentle and caring, not-”

“Horny and desperate?” Yuri asked, eyes narrowing. 

“Yeah. Something like that.” Otabek paused and let go of Yuri’s wrists. Probably deeming it safe that he wouldn’t get hit again. Yuri rubbed at them and turned away, not wanting to look at him anymore. It only made him sad.

“So, let me get this straight,” Yuri said, back towards Otabek. Towards the pain and the sadness and the anger. “We. Two consensual adults. Partook in a sexual act of which you fucked my mouth until my jaw hurt, came down my throat and-”

“Yuri,  _ Jesus _ .”

It was funny, the way Otabek was so good with words. So articulate with a vocabulary that dwarfed Yuri’s even though Yuri had been in college forever. The way Yuri said  _ fuck  _ every other word and was unashamed to be sexual or say sexual things while Otabek blushed at the  _ thought  _ of sex.

Yuri turned and faced him again. “We did that. That’s a thing and it happened and I didn’t regret it. You did. You apologized and left me raw and empty and then ran away. You didn’t want to listen to me and you basically told me to fuck right out of your life. So I did. I stopped bothering you and I moved on.”

“Yuri,”

“No. You shut the fuck up and listen to me.” Yuri was livid, eyes wide as he tried to stand his ground. Tried not to lapse into pacing because pacing is what he did when he was nervous. “ _ You  _ ran away. From me. You left me sad and broken and now you come back with this stupid suit and your stupid face and think that I’ll just accept your apology?”

“No, that’s not it at all.”

“Then what is it, Otabek  _ fucking  _ Altin? The audience is dying to know.”

“I want to fix this, Yuri. I don’t want to be afraid of what you had me feeling that night.”

Yuri drew in a breath and held it.

Exhaled.

“And what exactly was that?”

“I don’t know,” Otabek rubbed the back of his neck. Yuri watched the flush of red creep up his neck and into his face. “It was dark and needy. I didn’t like it. It scared me. I wanted to.. To do  _ things  _ to you.”

“You wanted to have sex with me, you mean. That’s normal. People want to have sex sometimes.”

“No, Yuri. It wasn’t just that. I wanted to control you. I wanted to pin you down and  _ take _ you.” Otabek’s face was burning red, and Yuri had never heard him say anything so dirty before.

He liked it.

He kept that to himself, though.

“Did you think I wouldn’t like that? After what I did? Really? I literally kneeled on the cold fucking ground and sucked your dick. You didn’t even tell me to do anything and I obeyed.”

Otabek suddenly looked tired, like the confidence he usually carried himself with had melted and evaporated. Like Yuri was the most exhausting thing.

“Why do you have to say everything without any modesty.”

“Where is the modesty in you shoving your cock in my throat?”

Otabek glared at him. It made Yuri stop talking, mouth still open. He locked eyes with Otabek, feeling that  _ pull _ inside of him again. He wanted to kneel down before him and listen to him. Do anything Otabek wanted him to. He wouldn’t even ask any questions because that is just how it was. That was how it felt to be around Otabek. Yuri wanted to listen to him and obey him. He wanted to do anything Otabek asked of him and then some.

Yuri swallowed, hard.

“I want,” Otabek paused, and Yuri felt some of the tension fade. “I want to fix this. I want to make it better. I want to properly court you and  _ then  _ do that - other thing.”

“Fuck my mouth?”

“ _ Christ _ , Yuri.”

Yuri said okay _._

_But this is your last chance._


	10. Chapter 10

Yuri sipped at his coffee as he tried to focus on the screen. The words were becoming blurry and harder to read, and the amount of coffee he had ingested was doing nothing to help. It was warm outside and he had taken to sitting outside of a coffee shop with his laptop so he could study for his oncoming finals.

His concentration was far from perfect.

Someone was sending him texts.

Fucking Otabek.

_ Thinking of you _ , his first one had said. Then another one came through moments later. A picture of Otabek standing next to the floor-to-ceiling window of his office. The view from it was beautiful and Yuri had flushed a bit, thoughts slipping towards..

“Yuri!”

Yuri almost spilled his coffee, hissing when a few drops spilled onto his exposed thigh.

“Mila, hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to surprise people?”

“You knew I was coming,” She said, and then, “Are you talking to Otabek again?”

“Something like that,” Yuri mumbled.

**Yuri** : I want to see that view again. I can think of a few things we could do.

**Otabek** : Christ.

Yuri smiled, feeling the prick of his hairs standing on end. Toying with Otabek was becoming one of his favorite hobbies. He could almost hear Otabek’s exasperated  _ Christ _ every time he texted it.

**Yuri** : I didn’t say anything dirty.

**Otabek** : It was implied. Everything you do is implied.

**Yuri** : You’re right. Well, I’d let you fuck me against that window.

**Otabek** : Yuri.

**Yuri** : Yes?

Their conversation ended there. Yuri wasn’t entirely surprised, as every time he pushed towards anything even  _ slightly  _ sexual, Otabek would stop responding.

He knew Otabek liked it, though.

“Didn’t we come here to study?” Mila asked, popping her laptop open.

“Well, that was the plan, but Otabek-”

“Has he sent you a dick pic yet?”

“I’m pretty sure that’ll happen when pigs can fucking fly,” Yuri snorted and closed his laptop. He was giving up on the studying thing. “I’ve seen his dick anyways.”

“Yeah, yeah. You told me.” Mila rubbed her hands together, her bright eyes fixated on Yuri. “Are you sure you’re over that?”

“I never said I was.”

“Then why are you so quick to jump back into a  _ thing  _ with him when you haven’t even properly spoken about what happened?”

“What is there to talk about?” Yuri asked, eyeing his coffee. She was right. They hadn’t talked about what had happened, not beyond Yuri screaming at him in his pajamas before noon.

“Yuri,” Mila began, softly, like her words were going to scare him away. “You  _ have _ to talk to him. You can’t just brush everything under the rug like you always do..”

Yuri just shrugged. She was right about that, too. He had swept Leroy under the rug but he was certain that would come bubbling to the surface at some point. In the form of tears and a lot of alcohol.

The  _ thing _ with Otabek would likely be the same.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

  
  


Yuri’s phone chimed at  _ way too fucking early o’clock _ and he nearly knocked it off his nightstand trying to fumble for it.

Whoever was texting him had better be dying.

Or he was going to kill them.

He unlocked his phone and was greeted with a picture of Otabek.

**Otabek** : Good morning. At the gym thinking of you.

Otabek was wearing a pair of shorts that hugged his thighs, Yuri shamelessly zooming in on them as he licked his lips.

Another chime. Another picture of Otabek, sweaty and delicious and  _ shirtless _ . 

Yuri swallowed thickly, feeling his cock stirring in his shorts. It was way too early to be horny.

**Yuri** : What the fuck

**Otabek** : ;)

Otabek knew what he was doing.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

  
  


Yuri didn’t like suits. He never had and probably never would. They were stuffy and gross and Yuri was neither stuffy nor gross.

At least he didn’t think so.

There he was in his suit tailored perfectly to his form with a bow tie tied around his neck. He hadn’t tied it himself, of course, Georgi had to do it for him.

He’d looked at himself in the mirror with a twisted expression.  _ I look fucking stupid _ he had said. Georgi had just looked away and mumbled something about Yuri being a sexy dumbass.

Yuri heard it. He smiled about it and adjusted his jacket.

He messed with his hair, tying it up and then pulling it back down. He eventually decided to leave it down, tucking the strands behind his ear.

He was nervous like he was the day he met Otabek at the quaint cafe. 

Their texts had been flirtatious and light, Yuri biting back the resentment that gnawed at him from the inside. He wanted to forgive and forget, to pretend that Otabek had never left him alone and cold and  _ used _ . He wanted to move on and pretend Otabek had done nothing wrong just so he could live a normal life and be happy.

That probably wasn’t how it was going to go at all, but goddamnit if Otabek wasn’t hot and Yuri wasn’t ready to be swept off his feet.

“Yuri, you look amazing,” Otabek said quietly, his voice low and soft when Yuri slid into the backseat with him. 

Yuri had scooted impossibly close to Otabek, smiling when he stiffened.

“You look pretty fuckable yourself, thanks.”

Otabek cleared his throat. Yuri just smiled.

The drive was relatively quiet, Otabek trying to keep his composure while Yuri ran his fingers up his thigh. 

“Yuri,” Otabek warned, in that tone of voice that made Yuri melt. Yuri just blinked at him, batting his eyelashes with a pout.

Otabek gave up after that.

Otabek seemed relieved when they arrived at the over-the-top restaurant. Relieved to be seated on the other side of a table. He finally relaxed and began to ask Yuri questions again, like the first time they had met.

“What are you going to do when school is over?”

Yuri just shrugged, tapping his fingers on his wine glass. “I don’t know. Get an apartment with Mila, maybe. Hope one of these places I’ve applied to wants to hire me.”

“What will you do if none of them hire you?”

“Sell myself on the corner or something, I guess.”

Otabek had sighed at that, Yuri giggling as he finished off his first glass of wine.

The night continued on like that, Otabek asking simple questions that Yuri found answers for. Sometimes he was serious and sometimes he was snarky. He spoke of his brother, Mila, his parents, and even Georgi. 

Yuri had nearly an entire bottle of wine by the time by the time their conversation turned more personal.

“So what is this?” He asked, words slightly slurred as he stared across the table at Otabek. “Are we in a relationship? Are you still my sugar daddy?”

Otabek flinched, breaking their eye contact to look down at his own wine glass. The first one that had been poured for him, just barely sipped from.

“Whatever you want it to be, Yuri.”

“Well, what  _ I _ want it to be is probably off the table. Can we just call this a relationship? Can I call you my boyfriend?”

Otabek looked up at him, then, eyes stormy and dark. Yuri felt that pull again.

“Whatever you want, Yuri.”

After dinner, Yuri felt the full effect of the large amount of alcohol he had consumed. He knew that the wine-drunk never lasted very long, but at the moment, he felt flitty and bold.

Once in the car, he shed his jacket and his bowtie, loosening the buttons on his shirt with a sigh. 

“I don’t want to go home,” He said, turning to look at Otabek. It was easy to see his face, even in the dark. The bright lights of the city lit up his features.

Yuri itched to touch him. All he ever wanted to do was touch him.

“What do you want, then?”

“Can I stay with you?” Yuri asked, nearly a whisper. He scooted closer still, his hand moving to rest on Otabek’s thigh. Again, Otabek stiffened, but he did nothing to remove Yuri’s hand.

Otabek agreed. Yuri grinned when his jaw tightened as his hand slid further up his thigh.

“Can you kiss me?” Yuri questioned, Otabek stopping his hand before it went any higher. He could see the storm brewing in his eyes when he fixated them on Yuri’s. “Please?”

It was quick, chaste. Otabek cupping the side of Yuri’s face as he leaned in to brush their lips together. Yuri placed his hand on top of Otabek’s, whining when he pulled away. Otabek’s hand lingered, his face so close that Yuri could feel his breath ghosting across his lips. 

“Again,” Yuri whispered.

Otabek leaned in and their lips met once more. It was a spark, threatening to light a fire between them. Yuri let out a quiet moan, an almost sob, one that caused Otabek to stop short.

“Are you alright?” Otabek asked, his eyes searching Yuri’s. Yuri felt hot, lips tingling from the pressure of Otabek’s against his own. He nodded, moving forward to chase after another kiss.

Yuri felt it. The control that Otabek had over their kiss. It felt like electricity darting through his veins. The way he forced Yuri’s mouth open and led the way with his tongue. Yuri fell into it with ease, allowing himself to be controlled, pliant, obedient. 

When Otabek finally broke their kiss, Yuri was panting. 

It took everything in him to not crawl into Otabek’s lap.

Otabek turned away, but not before Yuri could see the blush overtaking his skin. 

Like Otabek had all of the power to control Yuri and he knew it. He knew it, but he didn’t know how to handle it and that embarrassed him.

“I told you before that we weren’t exclusive, are you certain you’re ready to be?”

“Yes,” Yuri breathed. At that moment, he was certain. He wanted this, he wanted Otabek. He wanted to turn off the part of his mind that still loved and  _ longed _ for Leroy. He wanted to tune it out and tune into a new song.

Yuri stepped from the bathroom wearing one of Otabek’s shirts that was three sizes too big on him. Yuri paused as Otabek took him in, eyes raking over the length of his body. 

Yuri suddenly felt nervous.

“Hi.” He said quietly, shuffling towards the bed. He remembered the last time he had been here, so desperate and thirsty for Otabek to touch him. 

Now, after all the flirting he had done over the past couple of days, he felt nervous in the face of it. In front of Otabek who was more than just a picture on his phone. Otabek who held Yuri’s leash in his hands.

“Do you want me to move to the couch, Yuri?” Otabek asked, closing his book and adjusting his glasses.

“No. No, I’m fine.” Yuri sounded more confident than he actually felt as he slid under the covers. The sheets were cold against his skin, and he felt the warmth radiating from Otabek’s side.

He slid closer, resting his head on Otabek’s chest.

He felt Otabek hold his breath for a moment before relaxing, his fingers combing through Yuri’s tangled locks. They breathed together in silence, Yuri closing his eyes.

“Have you ever been in a serious relationship?”

“A couple of times,” Otabek replied. 

“I haven’t,” Yuri whispered. Otabek paused his combing fingers, then hummed. “My last relationship wasn’t really a relationship. I fell in love with him and he was in love with someone else. I can’t really blame him. We said  _ no strings attached _ and my dumb ass still fell in love with him.”

Yuri wanted to continue. He wanted to mention the  _ fantastic sex _ but he wasn’t really sure why. Maybe he wanted to hurt Otabek the way Otabek had hurt him.

He squashed that desire for now.

Sitting up, Otabek’s fingers slid from Yuri’s hair. Yuri bit his lip and looked down at him. Serene, stoic, Otabek. Sitting in the comfort of his bed with his reading glasses and his hair unkempt. No matter where he was or what he was wearing, he emanated something that Yuri wanted a taste of. It was a magnetic pull that Yuri tried so hard to fight against.

“Can I kiss you?” Yuri asked, shifting as he watched the clouds forming in Otabek’s eyes. The promise of Yuri’s favorite weather, with lightning and thunder.

Otabek nodded.

Yuri kissed him. His hair curtained around their faces, hiding them from the world. It was just Yuri and Otabek then, all quick breaths and hungry mouths. Otabek’s hands stayed to himself, but Yuri wished he would touch him. He wished he would pull Yuri into him and tell him it was okay to touch, to want more.

Yuri broke all of the boundaries and crawled on top of Otabek, legs straddling him. They stared at one another, lips inches apart. Otabek didn’t make any effort to move Yuri, so Yuri resumed their kiss.

It became more feverish and aggressive, Yuri giving way to Otabek’s tongue and the sudden grip of fingers into his bare hips under the oversized shirt.

Yuri dared to move his hips, feeling the growing bulge in Otabek’s loose pants. 

Otabek growled and pinned him in place.

“Yuri,” He warned. His eyes were all-consuming, the storm in full force when Yuri caught sight of them. It stirred something within him, and he fought to move his hips just to hear that  _ sound  _ again.

“I want you,” Yuri said quietly, shamelessly. “I’ll do anything you want, just please-”

Otabek moved, pushing Yuri off of his lap and onto his back. 

“Don’t touch me,” He said, stopping Yuri’s wandering hands. Yuri listened, hands moving to his sides. 

“Can you touch me?” Yuri questioned, feeling his own hardened cock peeking from under the shirt he was wearing. He bit his lip, hoping he wasn’t pushing this too far. Pushing Otabek too far.

Otabek’s eyes moved painfully slowly down his body, stopping when he caught sight of Yuri’s cock. He held his breath again, eyes flashing before he exhaled. Hesitantly, he pressed his hand against it, Yuri keening at the warmth and the small amount of friction it caused.

“More,” He breathed.

“Put your hands under the pillow,” Otabek said quietly, voice rough with his desire. Yuri listened. He would always listen. 

It was slow at first, Otabek exploring Yuri’s thighs with the tips of his fingers. He bucked his hips impatiently, but Otabek pushed him back down.

Feather-light touches over the inside of his thighs, down towards his knees, and back up. Otabek slid Yuri’s shirt up, his hands brushing over Yuri’s stomach and then a hardened nipple.

Yuri whined. A high pitched, pathetic noise, showcasing his frustration with Otabek’s teasing. Otabek finally wrapped his thick fingers around Yuri’s cock, stroking it with slow, careful movements. They stared at one another, Yuri’s mouth hung open as he fought to keep his hands under his pillow. He arched his back into every stroke.

Everything inside of him screamed to  _ touch Otabek _ . To kiss him and hold him close. He wanted to run his fingers through Otabek’s hair, to touch his face, his lips.

Yuri was being reduced to a writhing mess, the way Otabek slowly stroked his cock. 

He spit into his hand and quickened his ministrations, Yuri babbling and gripping the pillow beneath his head. He tried to keep his eyes locked on Otabek’s, to feel the intensity of his gaze. He didn’t want to look away even as his eyes fought to squeeze shut.

The look in Otabek’s eyes only spurred him on. The look that told him  _ you can’t cum until I tell you to _ . Yuri chewed on his lip until he tasted blood.

“Let me-” He choked out. His toes curled. Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes as he gritted his teeth. Otabek was fucking with him and Yuri wanted to  _ scream _ .

“Yuri, be patient.”

“I can’t,” He’d huffed. The longer Otabek edged him towards his orgasm, the less patience he had. He felt it thrumming through his entire body, the promise of release that Otabek kept reeling back in.

Yuri could feel it, the cusp of his orgasm. It lapped at his toes with gentle waves, and every so often he thought he was going to fall in.

Otabek didn’t let him. He would stop his stroking any time Yuri got close.

“I hate you,” He whispered.

“Cum,” Otabek said. Commanded. He tugged Yuri’s cock and Yuri came, obediently. Thick ropes of it landed on the shirt he was wearing, on Otabek’s arm. Otabek milked him through it, leaning down to whisper words of praise into his ear.

_ You’re so gorgeous. _

_ Good boy. _

Yuri was pretty sure he had called Otabek  _ daddy  _ as he came. He glanced at Otabek for any sign of discomfort, but his face was flushed and he avoided eye contact.

“Can I touch you now?”

Otabek froze but gave a curt nod. Yuri shed his soiled shirt and moved closer, sliding into Otabek’s space. He reached for Otabek’s arm, locking eyes with him before he began to lap at his cum. Otabek watched him. Quietly. He didn’t say a word, but his lips were parted when Yuri finished.

“When are you going to fuck me?” Yuri asked nonchalantly, swiping up the last drop of cum on Otabek’s arm. He sucked it off his finger, enjoying that Otabek was watching his every move.

“Not now.”

Yuri was growing frustrated. Frustrated with the way Otabek teased him and touched him but he wasn’t allowed to do the same. He could  _ see _ Otabek was horny in the way his chest rose and fell, the way his face was dusted with pink, and the way his eyes glistened as he watched Yuri devour his own cum.

“Why not?”

“Because.”

Yuri huffed but he didn’t fight it, choosing to curl up under the blankets with his back to Otabek. He listened as Otabek slid from the bed and headed towards the bathroom, turning on the sink.

“You can’t pretend like you’re washing your hands when I know you’re jerking off,” Yuri yelled. 

He only received silence.


	11. Chapter 11

“I just want to know why he won’t have sex with me. I did literally everything right and he turned me down.”

“Didn’t you say he was a virgin?” Mila asked, head hanging over the edge of Yuri’s bed.

“Oh.. Oh, shit. I almost forgot,” Yuri leaned back against the side of the bed with a laugh. “You know how sometimes you just  _ know _ that someone is a virgin? He’s basically the opposite of that.”

“ _ Oh daddy _ ,” Mila moaned. Yuri swatted her with a snort.

“Maybe that’s why he won’t have sex with me.”

“Do you think he watches a lot of gay porn to try and learn so that you guys can finally fuck and leave me alone about it?” Mila asked, and then, “I’ve never watched gay porn. Is it even realistic?”

Yuri unlocked his phone, glancing at the last thing Otabek had sent him. A picture of himself near the window in his office again, but it was really just his torso. Yuri  _ definitely _ had thing for suits. At least on Otabek.

“I don’t know, I don’t watch that shit,” Yuri replied wistfully.

“Are you going to have to teach him? Isn’t that awkward?”

“You know, at this point, I would fuck a cucumber as long as Otabek was the one holding it, so I think we’re long past  _ awkward _ .”

**Yuri** : Why won’t you have sex with me?

**Otabek** : Yuri.

**Yuri** : Don’t fucking Yuri me. Why?

**Yuri** : Is it because you’re a virgin? I can teach you. You learned other things pretty quickly.

**Yuri** : Goddamnit let me teach you I just want to have sex!!

**Yuri** : OTABEK

Yuri was getting annoyed. He was never this needy and obnoxious, as before he was  _ exclusive _ with Otabek he could have done whatever he wanted with whomever.

Otabek had him tied down and the only release he ever got since that night in Otabek’s bed was with his own hand.

**Yuri** : I swear to God if I have to jack off one more time.

**Yuri** : I’m going to lose my shit.

**Yuri** : It’s been like a month since we started talking again.

**Yuri** : AN ENTIRE WEEK SINCE YOU TOUCHED MY DICK

**Yuri** : I hate you.

Yuri caught Mila reading over his shoulder, having flopped over onto her stomach.

She giggled.

“I don’t think that’s how you get someone to have sex with you, Yuri.”

Yuri was seething with anger. Every time he brought up anything intimate, Otabek shut down and stopped responding to his texts. He was tired of it and tired of playing cat and mouse.

**Yuri** : Leroy didn’t do this to me.

**Yuri** : Then again, he also didn’t jizz down my throat and then run away because he was afraid of his own libido.

Yuri regretted it a little bit. Not really, though. He saw the dots of Otabek replying appear and then disappear a few times before his phone rang.

Mila puckered her lips. “Can I have your record collection when you die?”

Yuri glared at her until she left.

“What?”

“Who’s Leroy?” Otabek asked. He sounded tired and Yuri felt even worse.

“No one.”

“Obviously he isn't  _ no one _ if you decide to bring him up simply because I’m not answering you, Yuri. You’re a grown man, you don’t need to subtly try to make me feel terrible about something I already feel terrible for.”

Yuri breathed, tilting his head back. He knew his spontaneity and recklessness were going to get him in trouble one day.

“Who’s Leroy and is it someone I have to worry about?” Otabek asked again. 

“My teacher. That I used to fuck. Sometimes.” Yuri was actually surprised by his honesty. He probably didn’t need to be  _ that _ honest.

The noise Otabek made confirmed that.

“Yuri.”

“What?”

“Do you still love him?” Otabek’s words sounded pained. Yuri frowned. Did he still love Leroy? 

Maybe.

“No,” He lied.

“You know we’re going to have to talk about this, right?”

“Yup,” Yuri said quietly.

He was going to have to  _ really _ think about it. Did he love Leroy? Was he going to use him against Otabek anytime Otabek pissed him off?

Did he still harbor ill will towards Otabek?

  
────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  
  


Yuri had barged through the door the moment Otabek opened it. He sought refuge on the couch in the corner, Otabek offering him a cup of tea before sitting on the opposite couch.

He was giving Yuri room.

Yuri could feel the tension. He sipped his tea and glared at the table.

“Why won’t you have sex with me?” Yuri asked again, setting his cup down on the table. He pulled his knees up to his chest as if they would protect him from whatever Otabek had to say.

Otabek was quiet, rubbing his jaw with his hand.

“Well?”

“I’m afraid.”

“Of what?” Yuri shot back, his eyes moving to meet Otabek’s. He didn’t think Otabek was ever afraid of much. Nervous sometimes, sure. Even coy. Fear was another thing entirely.

“Yuri, please.”

“No. You don’t get to  _ Yuri, please _ me every time you want me to drop something. If you want me to tell you about Leroy you need to give me something in return.” Yuri felt his anger boiling, just as he knew it would. He tried to control it, but the shaking in his voice gave him away.

Otabek peered at Yuri, lips pressed together in a tight line.

“I told you I’m a virgin. I’m afraid of - Disappointing you. You have experience in something that I don’t and that scares me.”

Yuri gawked at Otabek’s honesty. The way he so confidently told Yuri his insecurity.

Yuri fidgeted in his chair.

“You don’t need to be afraid of that. I don’t have as much experience as you seem to think I do.”

“I wasn’t insinuating anything, Yuri.”

Yuri shrugged and looked back down at his cup. He worried his lip between his teeth and fidgeted again. “I know. I’m just saying. You could never disappoint me.”

“You and your.. Teacher. Aren’t a thing anymore, correct?”

“No, he’s boning another teacher now. I think he’s straight and I was a weird fetish for him since I’m kind of feminine but I have a dick.” Yuri almost winced at his own words, how harsh and  _ gross  _ they sounded coming from him. It was true, though.

“Why did you fall in love with someone like that?”

“Love is a fickle thing,” Yuri said, choking back the tears stinging his eyes. He wasn’t going to cry. Not here, not in front of Otabek. Certainly not over Leroy.

“It can be.”

“I guess it could have just been because the sex was good.” Yuri watched Otabek’s face as he said this. Otabek didn’t flinch, but Yuri was sure he saw something in his eyes. His eyes that always gave away how he felt.

Otabek didn’t say anything else. Yuri bit at the skin around his pointer finger before he placed his feet on the ground. “I have another question,” He said.

“Anything.”

“You told me once that you had no interest in having sex with someone you didn’t love. I thought-” Yuri paused, uncomfortable with questioning Otabek, but he continued. “I thought you said you couldn’t get hard if there were no feelings involved.”

“Yuri, I’m not going to sit here and tell you that I love you because that would be silly,” Otabek said. Yuri looked a bit relieved. “I don’t know what it is, but something about you drags something from within me. I know you feel it too.”

Yuri did, actually.

“You mean the way you tell me to do things and I just..  _ Do  _ them? The way I seem to turn you on when you told me that didn’t happen?”

Otabek pursed his lips again, but Yuri knew his non-response was a yes.

“I’m not going to tell you that I’m over Leroy because I’m not sure of that myself. I also can’t tell you that I entirely forgive you for what you did to me, but I want to be. I want to move on,” Yuri swallowed. He suddenly felt absolutely parched. “You do all these things to tease me and mess with me but the minute I try to get intimate you shut down and I don’t understand.”

“I told you why, Yuri.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that before?”

Otabek shifted in his chair. Cleared his throat. Yuri trained his eyes on the way he tapped his finger on his teacup. It looked so small in his hands.

Yuri was getting distracted again.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Everyone was a virgin at some point.”

“I’m old, Yuri.”

“No you aren’t,” Yuri responded, standing from the couch. He wasn’t sure why he had. He wanted to move to Otabek, to comfort him, to  _ touch  _ him. Instead, he sat back down and rubbed his hands on his shorts.

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“So you choose to jack off over the toilet instead?”

Otabek shrugged. Yuri tried to catch his eye, but Otabek was seemingly avoiding eye contact.

“I will tell you exactly what I told Mila yesterday. If you were holding a cucumber and you told me to fuck it, I would. If you laid down in bed and told me to ride you while you did absolutely fucking nothing, I would. I just want  _ you _ , I don’t  _ care _ .”

“One day you won’t say everything so crudely.”

“Not today. I’m horny and I want to be  _ fucked _ and my  _ boyfriend _ won’t  _ give me that _ .” Yuri stood again, this time crossing the room to seat himself in Otabek’s lap. Otabek looked rather startled, but Yuri persisted. “Please?”

“No, Yuri,” Otabek replied. He still sounded tired and worn out, but his hands moved to rest on Yuri’s hips.

Yuri pouted. “Why?”

“You just dropped a bombshell on me about your professor and the  _ wonderful _ sex you had. I’m not sure what you expected to happen after that.”

Yuri’s eyes lit up. He really hadn’t meant for them to. “Oh. Are you  _ jealous _ ?”

Otabek looked away, but Yuri noticed the muscles in his jaw working together as he clenched his teeth.

“Fine. Can I kiss you, at least?” Yuri asked, fingers touching the side of Otabek’s jaw, pulling his face back. Otabek glared at him, lips still taught. 

Yuri ran his fingers over Otabek’s lips with a sigh. “I’m sorry, okay. I won’t bring him up again, I promise.”

“No, you won’t,” Otabek said. Yuri felt a pull from his core. It wasn’t a question, nor was it a suggestion. Yuri was really beginning to enjoy the way Otabek told him what to do even if he didn’t mean to half of the time.

“You’re right,” Yuri said quietly, fingers brushing through the short hair behind Otabek’s ears. “Can I kiss you now?”

Otabek nodded.

Yuri pressed their lips together, running his tongue over Otabek’s bottom lip. Otabek took over almost immediately, his mouth forcing Yuri’s to comply. Yuri was surprised by the vigor in Otabek’s movements. His lips were rough and his tongue forced its way into Yuri’s mouth. Yuri gasped, fingers tangling in the longer hair at the top of Otabek’s head. 

He wanted to be closer.

Impossibly so.

Otabek’s hands slid up the back of Yuri’s shirt, his short fingernails dragging up the length of his back. Yuri arched forward, moaning into Otabek’s open mouth.

Their kiss was anything but neat, and the sound of it was absolutely  _ obscene _ . 

Yuri had kissed a lot of people in his lifetime, but the way Otabek pulled Yuri with him with ease made him melt. Otabek’s lips and tongue were practiced and precise, knowing exactly what to do to have Yuri  _ keening _ .

Otabek bit into Yuri’s bottom lip before breaking their kiss, pupils wide.

Yuri felt his heart stutter in his chest when Otabek whispered into his ear.

“You’re mine.”

Yuri tilted his head to the side, eyes fluttering shut. Otabek kissed along the length of his neck, nipping at the skin every so often. 

Yuri was gasping for breath, his hands pulling at Otabek’s hair, forcing him closer. 

“Now?” He asked, breathlessly.

“No.”

Yuri whined and rubbed himself against Otabek’s stomach. He felt the huff of breath against his neck when he did so.

Otabek still resisted, prying Yuri’s hands from his hair. Yuri glared at him, still bucking his hips.

“I said  _ not yet _ .”

Yuri whimpered but stopped.

Otabek had sent him off with a chaste kiss. Yuri glared daggers at him when the door closed in his face.

He was really tired of getting blue-balled.

**Yuri** : I hate you.

Otabek replied with a picture. 

It was his dick. In his hand. 

Yuri groaned in frustration and kicked Otabek’s door before turning to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KJDKSLAJFD I'm trying so hard not to push out updates so fast because it's like I have to let you guys STEW IN WHAT I WROTE BUT I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL I'M SORRY


	12. Chapter 12

**Yuri** : McDonald’s.

**Otabek** : I’m not taking you to McDonald’s.

**Yuri** : Okay. Somewhere that isn’t expensive. Where you won’t wear a suit.

**Yuri** : You wear things that aren’t suits, pajamas, and gym shorts right?

**Otabek** : …

**Yuri** : It’s a serious question.

**Otabek** : Yes, Yuri.

**Yuri** : Do you wear golf shorts and boat shoes?

**Otabek** : …

**Yuri** : That’s kind of hot, it’s fine.

When Yuri caught sight of Leo holding the door open for him, he grinned. “You know you don’t have to do that for me, right? I can open doors, I’m not-”

“I get paid to do exactly this, Mr. Plisetsky.”

“Can you call me Yuri? My dad is Mr. - You know what, nevermind. Yuri, please.”

“As you wish, Mr. Yuri.”

“For fuck’s-” Yuri waved his hand and slid into the car, huffing when Leo closed it. “Your butler-driver guy is uptight.”

“No, he isn’t. It’s called having manners, you could try it sometime.”

Yuri glared at Otabek, but it didn’t last long when he caught sight of him. His mouth popped open as if he were going to say something but then closed.

Otabek  _ did  _ wear things that weren’t suits.

And yes, of course, Yuri had been right. About both the boat shoes and the golf shorts. He found them charming, though. He told Otabek this and  _ holy shit _ the way he blushed and turned away made Yuri grin.

“So where are you taking me?” Yuri asked, rolling down the window. It was beautiful outside and he never understood the appeal of blasting the air conditioner when there was a perfectly good breeze.

“It’s a surprise.”

“You’re about as uptight as your butler-driver-ass-wiper,” Yuri said, popping a hand out the window. He flexed his fingers, enjoying the wind tickling between them.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re literally a robot.  _ You’re insufferable, Yuri. _ ” Yuri stuck his nose in the air and  _ hmphed _ . Otabek smiled.

Otabek’s smile was enough to make him blush.

Yuri never blushed.

Otabek had taken him to a nice diner. One that wasn’t overly fancy. One of the first restaurants Otabek brought him to that used paper napkins and had hard booth seats.

Yuri breathed in the smell of grease, sliding into the seat opposite Otabek.

They stared at one another for a few moments before Yuri broke the silence.

“So about that picture you sent me the other night-”

“What about it?”

Yuri tilted his head, but he didn’t get to answer before the waitress appeared. She was cute, blonde, tall, big boobs. Not that Yuri looked.

He looked.

Even gay men could appreciate boobs.

She flirted with Otabek, and the way Otabek laid on the charm made Yuri squirm in his seat. He wanted to reach across the table and grab his hand, but he fought it.

He wanted to growl at her like a possessive animal, but he smiled at her and blinked when she took his order.

“Does that happen  _ everywhere  _ you go?” Yuri asked, glaring at her back as she sashayed away. Otabek shrugged.

“Sometimes.”

“They know who you are. There’s no way you don’t. I’m sure you’ve been in a Cosmopolitan magazine or some shit,” Yuri tried not to sound jealous, but it was hard when your boyfriend had been crowned New York’s hottest bachelor.

“They don’t matter, Yuri.”

“I know,” He grumbled. He did, but it still made his skin itch.

“When are you graduating? I would like to attend.”

“You assume I plan on walking the stage like it means anything.”

“You’re going to be receiving your Master’s, Yuri. I’m sure your family has already planned on visiting.”

Yuri sighed. Otabek wasn’t wrong. They had. And he did plan on it. Walking, that is. “Okay, but I’m pretty sure it would look rather strange if you showed up to my graduation.”

“No one will know why I’m there.”

“Are you saying you’re ashamed of me, now?” Yuri asked, head cocking to the side. He smiled something devious, but Otabek just looked at him.

“No, Yuri.”

Yuri invited him to his graduation.

After lunch, they slipped from the diner. Yuri had taken Otabek’s hand and curled their fingers together before they reached the car. 

It was rare for them to be beyond the bustling city, out where it was more quiet and calm. Yuri had tugged Otabek back, planting a kiss on his lips before he could climb into the car.

Otabek had been surprised, but he had kissed back. It was quick and gentle, lacking any of the hunger and  _ want _ that usually spilled between them.

They pulled apart, just barely, breaths interlacing for a moment before Yuri let him go.

Parts of him were beginning to chip away. The rough edges, the broken pieces.  _ Leroy _ .

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


“You’re on the cover of nearly every magazine that middle-aged housewives buy,” Mila said, slapping various magazines on the table in front of him. 

Yuri was bewildered.

He grabbed the magazines, and sure enough, he was on the cover of each of them. Hand entwined with Otabek’s, a genuine smile plastered on his face. He looked  _ happy _ .

Yuri smiled at the fond memory before it slipped away. This wasn’t good news.

Yuri was on the cover of magazines.

Because of Otabek.

Otabek.

Yuri flipped open the first, stopping when he found a full-blown article about Otabek. Otabek and himself.  _ The mystery man _ was his name.

Yuri smacked his forehead.

There were pictures of them kissing in each and every magazine. Yuri thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

“Mila, holy shit,” Yuri said quietly. His fingers had begun to tremble and he swore the entire cafeteria was whispering about him.

They probably weren’t. Not many people read these stupid magazines or even  _ gave a shit _ but-

“Otabek. I need to call Otabek.” 

Yuri darted from the cafeteria, leaving an empathetic Mila and a pile of magazines behind.

“Yuri, I’m at work. What do you need?”

“We’re on the cover of some shitty magazines. There are pictures, Otabek.”

“Calm down. What?”

“Magazines. We’re in them. I didn’t know anyone was taking pictures of us when I kissed you. I’m sorry.”

“Yuri, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

Yuri reeled for a minute. He had almost expected Otabek to be  _ angry _ or  _ worried  _ about his image. Not calm. Not so ridiculously  _ Otabek _ .

“What.” It wasn’t a question, it was just. A statement. Of Yuri’s surprise.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Did you just say that being outed as  _ gay _ isn’t a big deal?”

“You're my boyfriend and you're a big part of my life. Your gender doesn't matter and none of this matters. It just is."

Yuri laughed.

He laughed and laughed and laughed until he started crying.

He wasn’t even sure why he was crying.

Maybe because of the jolt in his heart when Otabek just accepted him. That he was a _part_ of Otabek.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

  
  
  


**Yuri** : How does it feel being old news?

**Otabek** : Fine. As long as it’s with you.

Yuri grinned.

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


Yuri heard from Mila who heard from Sara who heard from  _ someone  _ in Professor Yang’s class that Leroy had proposed to her.

She’d said yes.

Yuri just stared at Mila and asked her why she thought he gave a shit.

“You would have, once,” She replied.

“Once.”

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


Finals came.

Yuri spent most of his last test staring at the clock on the wall. He felt like an imposter. Like the past four years of hard work were all a lie and he shouldn’t be getting a degree and  _ he couldn’t fucking breathe _ .

He felt like all his answers were wrong.

He finished before everyone else had and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was really smart or if everything he had put on the paper was just  _ incorrect _ .

He went through the entire test again.

And again.

Until the proctor said that time was up.

Yuri panicked then. Did he write his name?

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

  
  


Yuri waited. Staring at the laptop on his lap. Otabek pressed against his side. Waited for the test results to be posted. 

“You probably did great,” Otabek whispered, fingers feathering over the shell of Yuri’s ear.

Yuri just shivered and pushed Otabek’s hand away. “What if I didn’t?”

“You did.”

He did.

  
  


────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

  
  


Yuri’s mom had buried her face into his shoulder. 

“Mom, it isn’t that big of a deal,” He’d said. He touched her hair and rubbed her back, blinking back the tears that were forming in his own eyes.

“I’m proud of you,” His father had said. Yuri had stared at him for a long time. He’d never heard his father say that. The tears spilled from his eyes and he had nearly thrown himself into his father’s arms.

“Good shit,” Yulian had said, grinning as he ruffled Yuri’s hair. Yuri told him he looked like a homeless man with the way his beard had grown long and scruffy and his hair was growing out. Yulian never grew out  _ any _ of his hair.

“You’re huge,” He’d whispered to Tiffany. Yulian had looked offended but she had just giggled. He touched her belly and promised the little one inside of her that he would spoil them and love them and give them the moon.

Otabek had stood awkwardly nearby, hands clasped neatly in front of him. Yuri beckoned him closer, whispering in his ear that he was a part of this.

“I’m Otabek Altin,” He said. He sounded serious and _old_  and Yuri glanced between him and his father and back again, nervously.

“I know who you are,” His father replied. He took Otabek’s hand in his own and leaned in. “What are your intentions with my son?”

“Dad, we’re not in a movie.” Yuri had said.

Who even said  _ what are your intentions with my child _ anymore?

“I care about him, very much,” Otabek said. Yuri covered his face with both hands.

“I do hope so.”

Yulian had nudged him in the side, Tiffany pressed her hand into his back.

Yuri mumbled something about needing to get ready because he had a diploma to retrieve.

As he walked across the stage, Yuri pinpointed Otabek in the crowd. Smiling, clapping, standing alongside his family. His mom, his dad, his brother, Tiffany, the little nugget in her belly.

He beamed back.

He felt more of his pieces sliding into place. Back where they belonged.

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


After, after. When everyone had left and Yuri stood in Otabek’s entryway. Holding his diploma and his cap, grinning as if he held the world in his hand:

"You're perfect," Otabek had said. His hand swept the side of Yuri's face.

Yuri could hear nothing over the sound of his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All your comments give me life I swear.
> 
> Thank you so much for the overwhelming support after I came back to write this after a year hiatus. ;-;
> 
> (and no this isn't the end I'm just feeling some things okay I'm sorry)


	13. Chapter 13

Otabek pressed his forehead to Yuri’s, their breaths mingling with their  _ closeness _ . Yuri had dropped his things and wrapped his arms around Otabek’s neck, holding on as if he were going to slip away.

“I mean it,” Otabek said quietly. 

Yuri’s breath hitched but he nodded. His eyes fluttered shut and their lips met. Otabek’s hands found purchase on Yuri’s waist, fingers digging in. It was a chaste kiss, quick, then another.

Yuri gasped, the breath knocked from his lungs when his back hit the wall. Otabek’s hands slid from Yuri’s waist, down, gripping at his thighs. He pulled them up and around himself, Yuri latching on. He didn’t let go though, those fingers gripping at Yuri’s thighs with a pressure that made him feel  _ owned _ and  _ wanted.  _ Their eyes were locked, and Yuri could smell champagne on Otabek’s breath.

His breath that fanned over Yuri’s lips, their faces close as they drank each other in.

“Otabek,” Yuri said quietly. A sound, deep in Otabek’s chest. An almost growl. Yuri’s hands slid down his arms, over his biceps. “ _Otabek_.”

Otabek’s mouth brushed Yuri’s lips. Yuri breathed out a small noise, like the mewl of a kitten. Otabek did it again, tongue gliding along Yuri’s bottom lip. Yuri parted his lips at this, allowing Otabek to slide his tongue in. It wasn’t feverish and lustful, it was soft and  _ giving _ and Yuri felt like every inch of him was ablaze.

Nothing mattered then but the taste of champagne he found on the tip of Otabek’s tongue and the pressure of Otabek’s body against his own. 

The feeling of it all threatened to swallow him whole.

His chest ached.

His lips tingled.

He wanted more.

His hands lingered on Otabek’s biceps for a moment longer before fumbling around the front of his shirt, trying to find buttons between his fingers. Buttons that could be undone.

Otabek didn’t stop him this time.

His fingertips feathered over Otabek’s exposed chest, and he relished the way his skin pebbled beneath them. He brushed over Otabek’s hard nipples, gasping when Otabek sunk his teeth into his lip.

He could feel how much Otabek wanted it. How hard his cock was where it pressed into him, just beneath his own. He felt it in the way Otabek nuzzled at his neck, gasping with every sweep of Yuri’s fingers over his nipples.

“Otabek,” Yuri whined. He sounded pitiful as his voice cracked. 

He  _ felt _ pitiful.

Otabek shook his head, nose still buried in his neck.

“ _ Otabek _ ,” Yuri said again, trying to move from where he was pinned between an impossibly hard body and the wall.

He yelped when Otabek bit into his skin. It pulsed through him and threatened to split him down the middle.

Then Otabek let him go. Let him slide from his arms before he turned, back towards Yuri.

“Why do you do this to me?” Yuri asked, breath heavy and ragged. He was suddenly hyper-aware of the pain in his thighs. Little pricks of it where Otabek’s fingers had just been. Of the spot on his neck where Otabek had scraped his teeth.

“It’s as difficult for me as it is for you, Yura,” Otabek said quietly. 

Yuri just stared at him as he headed down the hallway.

He pouted and rubbed his neck. He wasn’t going to push it tonight. He already knew what the end result would be and it wasn’t worth the argument.

Otabek had already shed his shirt and disappeared into the bathroom by the time Yuri padded in. He had stood with his back against the wall for a while until his heart had stopped threatening to crack his ribs.

He found Otabek’s shirt on the bed and reached for it. He held it to his face and  _ sniffed _ . It was not unlike the smell before a storm. The definition of Otabek and all that encapsulated him.

Yuri shrugged off all of his clothes and pulled it on. Wrapped it around himself and lifted the collar, breathing in  _ Otabek _ . 

Otabek had stepped from the bathroom then, toweling his hair. He froze briefly, eyeing Yuri in his shirt.

“You smell nice.” Yuri shrugged, still holding the collar to his nose.

Otabek stared at him. Yuri saw his bicep flex for a moment before he turned away.

“Do you like me in your shirt?” Yuri asked. Boldly, tiptoeing the line between  _ safe _ and Otabek pushing him away.

Yuri’s eyes dropped, following the line of Otabek’s spine, down to where it disappeared into his low slung pants. 

Yuri bit his lip. He imagined Otabek over him, sweaty and  _ growling _ Yuri’s name.

“I do,” Otabek replied. It was matter-of-factly. Like Yuri should have known that without asking.

He had, considering Otabek had turned away from him. Turned to hide the flush of his skin and the desire growing in his pants.

Yuri slid into the bed, eyes still on Otabek’s back. He watched the muscles working as he brushed his teeth, eyes meeting Yuri’s in the mirror above the sink.

Yuri felt the bed dip under Otabek’s weight, feeling his warmth as he hovered behind Yuri. He always tried to do that. Let Yuri come to him instead of forcing himself closer.

It was dark and the sheets were cold. Yuri scooted back until he was flush with Otabek. Until Otabek wrapped an arm around him.

Yuri wanted to ask him, again. Ask him why they couldn’t have sex and why there never seemed to be  _ the right time _ . 

He didn’t though.

He fell asleep quickly, the warmth and the smell of everything that was Otabek wrapping around him.

In the morning, Otabek had made him pancakes. Yuri teased him about his apron but he found it endearing. He didn’t even know Otabek knew how to cook.

That did  _ something _ to him.

“I have to go into work today. For a little while.”

Yuri stared at his pancakes. Otabek had promised they would spend time together today. He didn’t want to go back to the dorms yet. He didn’t want to pack and say goodbye to everyone.

“Can I come?” He asked, eyes fixated on Otabek’s jaw.

It twitched but then Otabek shrugged.

“I don’t see why not.”

Yuri remembered the last time he had been in Otabek’s office the moment he stepped through the door. He eyed the chair that he remembered knocking over. He picked up a tiny bear from the corner of Otabek’s desk, frowning at the paw that was glued on.

“Did I break this?” He asked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. I’m sorry.” Yuri set it back down. Brushed his fingers over Otabek’s desk, over the chairs. He stepped towards the window, hands against the glass as he stared out over the city.  _ His  _ city.

He felt Otabek behind him.

He glanced at him over his shoulder, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “Remember what I said we could do against this window?”

“Yuri,” Otabek warned.

Yuri turned, slowly, back against the window.

“Fine. Can you kiss me at least?”

Otabek hesitated. Yuri knew how he was about work. About his office. About his  _ space _ .

He gnawed on his lip and batted his eyelashes.

“Please?”

Two quick steps and Otabek was on Yuri, thumb swiping over his lips.

Yuri frowned.

“That’s not-”

Otabek knew what he was going to say. He had to have. He leaned in and kissed Yuri. Yuri grabbed hold of his tie and pulled him closer, smiled against Otabek’s lips at the sound that rumbled in his throat.

Otabek was tense still. Hesitant. Yuri spurring him on in his office was likely far outside of his comfort zone. Yuri could tell he enjoyed it. Like it was a fetish that he refused to acknowledge. His tongue glided over Yuri’s lips as his leg pressed between Yuri’s to spread them apart.

“The offer still stands,” Yuri mumbled into his lips. Otabek pulled away, eyes locked on Yuri’s.

Yuri didn’t let go of his tie.

“Not yet, Yuri."

Yuri tugged his tie, pulling him closer. “I’m really tired of you getting me all worked up and then leaving me to dry.”

Otabek shut him up with his mouth. He kissed and nipped at his lips and then moved to his jawline. Yuri tilted his head to the side and let go of Otabek’s tie. 

Otabek kissed along his neck, then bit into his shoulder. He slid down Yuri’s body and kneeled at his feet.

Yuri  _ moaned _ . Otabek on his knees in his suit in his own office made his body tremble.

Otabek looked up at him. It was a silent question that Yuri answered with a nod.

_ God  _ did he nod.

Otabek’s face pressed into the space between Yuri’s cock and his leg. Into the fabric of his shorts, nuzzling. The palm of Otabek’s hand rubbed over Yuri’s cock, and for a moment, Yuri thought he was going to cum in his shorts.

He ordered Yuri to turn around the moment Yuri tried to reach for Otabek’s hair. 

Yuri listened and turned, placing his hands on the glass as instructed.

He stared out over the city as Otabek slid his shorts down. Stared off into the distance as he felt the chill of the air conditioner when his briefs followed.

Otabek spread his cheeks apart and Yuri held his breath.

“You're so beautiful. So good. So _perfect_."

Yuri’s eyes rolled back in his head, forehead smashing into the window when Otabek swiped his tongue over his hole. It was  _ filthy _ , the slow drag of it making his knees feel weak.

It was dirty and  _ sexy _ . He stood in the window with his cock out, the whole city in front of him. He knew no one could see him so high up, but it was thrilling. 

“Holy shit, Otabek.”

Yuri never thought that Otabek would spread him open in his office. Or anywhere, for that matter.

But especially not in his office.

Otabek lapped at his hole like it was the best ice cream he’d ever eaten, Yuri trying so hard to stay on his feet. He felt like collapsing. 

Moans spilled from his lips, his hips jerking as he tried to find  _ something _ to rub his dripping cock against. Otabek squeezed his asscheeks and dragged his tongue from Yuri’s hole all the way to his balls and back.

Yuri lost his balance, but Otabek caught him.

“Stop fucking with me,” Yuri gritted.

“I’m not.”

Otabek forced Yuri to stand up straight. Told him to put both of his hands back on the glass.

Yuri did.

Yuri could see his reflection in the window, watched Otabek as he straightened behind him.

The sudden warmth of Otabek’s hand around his cock made him jump.

_ Cum for daddy _ .

He did. He bucked his hips, crying out as he came. His head tilted back and rested on Otabek’s shoulder. 

_ Yura, Yura, Yura  _ was whispered in his ear. It was Yuri's favorite song. Otabek stroked his hair and ran his fingers over the length of Yuri’s body. Yuri felt sensitive all over, every feather-light touch like a spark.

His breathing slowed down and the fog cleared, Yuri sucking in a breath before he lifted his head from Otabek’s shoulder. His knees felt wobbly - like they didn’t belong to him. 

His eyes drifted down the window, to his cum slipping down the glass. He made note to clean it before he left because there was no way he could make someone else touch his sperm. Especially on the window. Where it  _really_ didn't belong.

“Well, that's unfortunate.”

Yuri turned, finally facing Otabek. His face was pinkened, lips red where his teeth had bitten. His eyes were heavily lidded, pupils blown out. 

Yuri touched Otabek’s lips, his other hand moving to rest atop the bulge in his pants.

Otabek let out a strangled sound like he was trying so hard to keep Yuri at arm’s length. Like having sex with Yuri or letting Yuri touch him was the worst thing that could happen.

Yuri squeezed.

“Stop,” Otabek choked. He grabbed Yuri’s wrist and held it away.

Yuri leaned forward, let his lips brush against Otabek’s ear.

“I just want to taste you again. You tasted so  _ good _ .”

Otabek froze. Yuri smiled.

“No, Yuri.”

Yuri mumbled something about Otabek being a stick in the mud, but he knew where this conversation would end.

It was odd, the way Otabek would give and give and give but never take. How he would pleasure Yuri and fight off any attempts Yuri made to do the same for him.

Like he was a martyr trying to repay what he did to Yuri all those months ago in the snow.

Yuri wasn't sure how to feel about that.

He pulled his shorts back on and slid into a chair.

The one he’d knocked over the last time he’d been here.

Yuri watched Otabek slowly regain his composure. The blush faded and his pupils shrank as he tapped away on his laptop like he hadn’t just been ripping Yuri apart with his tongue.

"Leroy is getting married," Yuri said absently. Otabek peered at him for a moment, then turned back to the screen.

"Does that make you jealous?"

"It would have a couple of months ago," Yuri shrugged, staring up at the ceiling. "Now I just kind of feel empty about it. I knew she existed the whole time. She knew I existed. It was all very weird now that I think about it."

Otabek cocked an eyebrow, but his gaze was still fixated on the computer.

"She knew I was boning her boyfriend and-" Yuri caught the look Otabek shot him. "Too soon? Too soon. Sorry. Anyways, no, I'm not jealous."

"Why did you tell me, then?"

"I don't know. Self-assurance, I guess. Like hearing it out loud made it real. Confirmed it. I just wanted you to know."

"I see."

"Did you see anyone? While you were playing my sugar daddy?" Yuri wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"I did. We didn't sleep together, though."

The jealousy struck him like lightning. He didn't miss the jab, either. 

"Ouch. I thought we were past that."

"We are. Too soon?"

Yuri snorted and looked down at the ground. Two months ago, he would have lashed out. Two months ago, he wasn't finding himself tripping over his feet for Otabek, either.

Part of Yuri still thought all of this was too good to be true. Yuri had never felt happiness quite like this, and while he sat in that chair that had once been on its side, he stared at Otabek. He really  _looked_ at him. The way his eyes focused on his work, the way his eyebrows knitted together when he seemed confused. His hair. That lock that fell onto his forehead. The storm in his eyes. The strength in his jaw and his chest and his arms and his fingers and  _holy shit_.

Yuri loved him.

He realized it then, he realized it and it hit him like a truck.

Then he realized he had said it out loud and Otabek was staring at him and he prayed for the ground to swallow him whole because he couldn't stand to be rejected-

"I love you too, Yura."

And the budding flower in his chest  _bloomed_.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Yuri shifted awkwardly in his chair as he felt the bud blossoming, Otabek's words the sunshine that it had been longing for. He focused on the sound of his heart and the breathing that seemed way too loud to be his own.

“I didn’t- I didn't mean for it to sound so much like an afterthought.”

“It didn't.”

Yuri knew what he'd said. He'd stared at Otabek and breathed  _ I fucking love you _ as if it held no magnitude. As if it weren't the first time he'd said it. As if Otabek wasn't sitting five feet from him.

“I love you,” He said again. He sat up in the chair. He held his breath. “I love you, Otabek.”

Otabek grinned. Positively  _ beamed _ and Yuri had never seen anyone more beautiful in his entire life. 

He stood and stepped around the desk, Otabek swiveling in the chair to face him. Yuri felt  _ full _ and  _ happy _ as he captured Otabek's lips with his own. He whispered it between every touch of their lips.

I _ love you _ .

Otabek touched the side of Yuri's face, tucking loose strands of hair behind his ear.

“I've been waiting for you,” He said quietly. Yuri furrowed his eyebrows. “Do you know how long I've known that I would pull the stars from the sky just to see you smile?”

“If you say something cheesy about love at first sight I swear-”

“Since that night. Before you found me in the courtyard. I just knew. And then in the cold, I knew it again. You stared up at me with this  _ look _ in your eyes. It stirred something in me that I didn’t understand, and it made me realize that you were something precious.”

“Then why-”

“I don't know, Yuri. I have insecurities too, even if it doesn't always show.”

Yuri set his forehead against Otabek's and laughed. He crawled into his lap and held onto him, fighting the burn in his eyes.

Otabek stroked his hair and Yuri buried his face in Otabek's neck.  
  


────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

 

“Can I tell Mila that I sucked your dick so well that it made you fall in love with me?” Yuri asked, watching as Otabek chopped a head of lettuce.

Something about him wearing an apron and holding knife made Yuri swoon.

“No, because that would be a lie.”

“Sure, but I did suck it really well,” Yuri replied, snatching a cherry tomato from the container next to Otabek. 

Otabek just let out a huff of air. Yuri laughed.

Yuri felt grossly domestic, watching Otabek cook as he stole pieces of food in between. They'd agreed to eat and watch a movie together, but in the end, it ended up being Yuri feeding Otabek and then rubbing all over him like a cat.

“You’re insatiable,” Otabek said quietly. Yuri just grinned up at him, head in his lap. His hand moved to palm over Otabek’s cock but the sudden pressure around his wrist stopped him.

“Have you  _ seen _ yourself? You’d want to fuck you too. If you weren’t...You.” Yuri pondered that for a minute.

“It’s not time.”

“When will it be time?” Yuri asked, sitting up so quickly that he felt lightheaded. His eyes fixated on Otabek’s lips, always watching the way they moved as he spoke. Spoke words thick with honey and chocolate. 

“When I say so.”

“I have  _ needs _ and I know you have  _ needs _ . You think I don’t know about you jacking off over the toilet most nights but I know.”

Otabek blushed but didn’t look away. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You think turning on the sink or taking a shower makes it so I don’t know. I know. I know I turn you on even though you said once that you don’t masturbate. You do now. So why not-”

“No, Yuri.”

“Can I touch you at least?” Yuri asked, a pout forming on his lips. Otabek eyed him for a few seconds before he looked away. “Please? I promise I won’t try to insert anything into my ass. Maybe my mouth but-”

“Christ you’re so vulgar.” Otabek quieted him by pressing their lips together. Yuri hummed into it, his hand sliding along the sharp edge of Otabek’s jawline. The rough stubble felt wonderful under the tips of his fingers.

Yuri crawled into his lap, never breaking their kiss. He straddled Otabek and swiftly moved to unbutton his shirt. Something about the fact that Otabek literally owned nothing but button-down shirts made him tingly and warm. He considered ripping it off but decided that chasing down the buttons afterward would be too much work.

“I love you,” Yuri whispered, lips pathing along the side of Otabek’s mouth. He heard Otabek swallow. He kissed along his jawline and nosed at the stubble there. “ _ I love you _ ,” He whispered again.

Otabek tilted his head back, exposing the length of his neck. Yuri dove in hungrily, licking and nipping and kissing along the column of his throat. Yuri could feel the vibration of Otabek growling low in his throat, his fingers tangling with Yuri’s hair.

Yuri trailed his tongue down until it found a hardened nipple. He lapped at it a few times before he sucked it into his mouth.

Yuri felt  _ all _ of Otabek tense at once. He could feel as he fought to keep his hips steady, and Yuri could  _ definitely _ feel his cock growing in his pants. Yuri bit then, teeth sinking into the skin around Otabek’s nipple.

Otabek hissed through his teeth and pulled on Yuri’s hair, prying him away from his chest.

The look on his face made Yuri feel everything he had felt that evening in the courtyard. The strength, the raw desire, and the control that seeped from him wrapped around Yuri like tendrils of smoke.

The pull on his hair made him moan wantonly.

“Please,” He whispered, head pulled back with the force of his hair wrapped around Otabek’s hand. “You can do it to me but I’m not allowed to do it to you and I don’t understand. I just want to fucking  _ consummate  _ our relationship and you won’t.”

Yuri sounded very whiny.

It made Otabek loosen his grip, face softening a bit.

“I didn’t even know anyone seriously used the word consummate, Yura.”

“Please let me suck your dick.”

“You’re so romantic.”

Otabek flipped them over then, Yuri unsure whether to moan or cry from the pain in his scalp. Otabek’s hand was firm in his hair as he hovered over Yuri.

Yuri licked his lips and stared up at him, trying to wiggle his hips up to meet Otabek’s.

Otabek let go of his hair and caged him in, arms on either side of Yuri’s head. The weight of his body pressed into him, forcing Yuri to stop moving.

He could feel everything.

Otabek rutted against him, slowly at first. Yuri sucked in air through his teeth.

“Beka,” Yuri gasped, fingers digging into Otabek’s arms. Otabek stopped moving his hips. “ _ Beka _ ,” Yuri sobbed. He started again, quicker this time. Yuri could feel Otabek’s cock rubbing against his own. It was through layers of clothing and the feeling was muted, but it was shocking and sexy and Yuri felt every nerve in his body tingling with it.

Yuri had lifted his chin, head leaning back as his eyes closed. 

This time, he was definitely going to cum in his pants.

He felt Otabek’s big, warm hand wrap around his neck.

And then Otabek stopped. Yuri whined.

“If I do this, I promise I won’t leave this time. Okay?” Otabek asked, eyes searching Yuri’s when they opened again. Yuri swallowed thickly, Otabek’s hand still pressed against his throat. “I promise,” Otabek whispered, hand trailing down to Yuri’s side. He whispered  _ I love you _ into the side of Yuri’s face, rutting his hips once more before he moved.

Yuri pulled himself up, head against the pillow that lay against the arm of the couch.

He watched as Otabek undid his belt, slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants before shimmying out of them.

Yuri swallowed again.

He had forgotten how  _ thick _ Otabek’s cock was in all of its glory.

Otabek tilted Yuri’s chin up.

“Do you really want this?” He asked, thumb sweeping over Yuri’s skin. 

Yuri shivered but nodded.

“Say it.”

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” Yuri said quietly.

He watched as the storm broke in Otabek’s eyes. As he scooted forward, until his knees were on either side of Yuri’s arms. It pinned them in place, Yuri realized, after he attempted to wiggle them free.

Fucking Otabek.

He tapped his cock against Yuri’s lips once, twice, three times. Yuri stared up at him.

“Open your mouth,” Otabek said. Demanded.

Yuri did.

His cock slid in with ease, bumping against the roof of his mouth before Otabek pushed it down, guiding it towards the back of Yuri’s throat. Yuri wiggled as he tried to take it all in. 

“You’re so good, Yura, look at you.” Otabek’s fingers traced over Yuri’s jaw. “So gorgeous with my cock in your mouth. Do you like that?”

Yuri nodded frantically. 

_ Liking it _ was an understatement.

He felt everything, the dribble of saliva down his chin and the pull in his hair when Otabek began to thrust into his mouth.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to touch himself. He wanted to touch Otabek, but Otabek’s knees were pinning him in place. 

Otabek’s eyes were trained on his, one hand in Yuri’s hair, the other caressing the side of his face. Like he wasn’t brutally fucking his mouth. Like this was romantic and sweet.

Seeing calm and stoic Otabek broken apart in front of him made him surge with pride.  _ He  _ was the one who did this.  _ He  _ was the one who made Otabek whisper dirty things.

Otabek’s hips stuttered and Yuri knew he was close. His jaw ached and his eyes watered when Otabek pulled his cock from between his lips.

“Keep your mouth open,” Otabek growled. Yuri did.

Otabek hovering over him, stroking himself off over his open mouth was the hottest thing he had ever been apart of.

He whimpered as Otabek came across his face, thick ropes of it landing on his cheek, his forehead, his nose, and in his mouth.

Yuri licked it from his lips, but he didn’t dare open his eyes. He felt the warmth cooling on his eyelids, Otabek’s pleasure splayed across his face.

If he weren’t so blissful about it, he may have made a joke about Otabek having bad aim.

Then Otabek was gently wiping it off with his shirt, whispering in Yuri’s ear that he was beautiful and perfect and loved.

He wanted to touch Otabek so badly that his fingers burned.

“Beka,” Yuri rasped, wiggling again to try to free himself. “Touch me.”

Otabek moved. He palmed Yuri through his pants. Yuri’s eyes rolled back in his head, his hands settling on Otabek’s shoulders. The warmth of him kept him grounded. Stilled the thrumming in his body and the growing panic that Otabek was going to leave him.

The warmth engulfing his cock made him hold his breath.

He let it out slowly as Otabek swallowed him, looking up at Yuri through his thick lashes.

“ _ Beka, holy fucking shit, _ ” Yuri squeezed, fingers digging into Otabek’s shoulders. “I’m going to cum.”

Otabek made no attempt to stop.

Yuri bucked his hips up as he came down Otabek’s throat.

Otabek crawled over him again, covering Yuri’s mouth with his own.

Yuri could taste himself on Otabek’s lips. 

He wrapped himself around Otabek, pulling him down until his weight had Yuri pinned against the couch. 

He was heavy and warm, but Yuri had never felt so safe.

“I won’t leave,” Otabek had said quietly. He said it again and again until Yuri’s heart stopped slamming against his ribcage.

Otabek fell asleep with his cheek against Yuri’s chest, Yuri stroking his hair until his breaths evened out.

He couldn’t help but feel a little bit victorious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much dick sucking/touching is acceptable until they actually have full blown dick-in-butt sex?
> 
> Asking for a friend.


	15. Chapter 15

Yuri didn’t remember drifting off to sleep.

He awoke to Otabek curled around him from behind. Yuri listened to him breathe. In, out, in, out.

Otabek grumbled in his sleep, and Yuri turned his head to look at him over his shoulder.

He looked ethereal as he slept. 

His thick, dark eyelashes splayed over his cheekbones, lips just barely parted. The always unruly long strands of hair at the top of his head curled into his forehead.

Yuri felt content, just observing Otabek in his purest form.

Until his eyes fluttered open and Yuri let out a yelp.

“I wasn’t staring at you.”

“You were.”

“I can’t help that you’re ridiculously fucking attractive,” Yuri mumbled. He turned his head back around, trying to hide the heat of his cheeks.

Otabek kissed the back of his neck. Rubbed his nose against it. Tightened his grip around Yuri. Mumbled something about wanting some eggs.

Yuri felt the butterflies come to life in his stomach, but he ignored it and pried himself from Otabek’s arms.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

He spared another glance at Otabek who had frowned and pulled the pillow into himself before he padded off towards the bathroom, yawning.

He stood under the water for a while, eyes closed and head tilted back. He enjoyed the rivulets of water sliding down his face, down his chest, down his back.

The shower door open, Yuri startled by the sudden rush of cool air. It snapped shut again, followed by Otabek wrapping around him from behind.

“You’re very cuddly after what you did last night,” Yuri mused.

“I’m a cuddly person.”

“You weren’t so cuddly when you said  _ cock _ and wow I have never heard anything so dirty come from your mouth. I didn’t even know you were capable,” Yuri admitted. “Can you say  _ fuck _ ?”

“Fuck.”

“Nope, don’t do that again. That sounds really wrong.”

Otabek laughed, low and smooth. “I can curse Yuri, I just find it a bit vulgar to do so.”

“Funny you say that yet you fell head over heels with someone whose absolute favorite word happens to be  _ fuck _ .”

“I like it when you curse. It’s adorable.”

Yuri smacked at Otabek’s arm. “I’m not adorable.”

Otabek kissed along the side of Yuri’s face. The stubble lining his jaw scratched Yuri’s skin, but he smiled.

Otabek offered to wash Yuri’s hair, Yuri nearly slipping and falling when the feel of Otabek’s fingers dragging along his scalp made him doze off.

He did the same for Otabek, giggling as he fashioned his hair into horns.

After, Otabek made eggs. Of which Yuri complained were missing the yolks.

“Do you think my body looks like this because I eat egg yolks, Yuri?”

No, probably not.

“I have to go look at apartments with Mila today. My dad gave me a budget since he’s the one paying for it. He also gave me a card that he said has a lot of money on it. He’s been waiting for me to graduate and- Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re cute when you ramble.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Do you want to come with? Mila is  _ dying _ to meet you. She won’t shut up until she does and if she doesn’t shut up I’m going to rip her pretty hair out of her head and make a wig out of it.”

“Sure, Yura.”

“I have all this money and I don’t know what to do with it. I’m not very good with money.”

“I can help you if you want.”

“That would be nice, I’m fucking awful at math,” Yuri didn’t miss the confusion on Otabek’s face. “I lied about liking numbers. Fuck numbers. Math is awful and you’re a fucking lunatic.”

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


“Wow, you’re even hotter in person,” Was the first thing Mila said.

“Holy shit you need an off button,” Yuri replied. He’d subconsciously grabbed Otabek’s hand.

Otabek just laughed. Yuri really liked the sound of it. 

He wanted to do anything he could to hear it again and again.

They’d finally decided on an apartment just before the sun began to set. Otabek had trailed along with them as if he were apart of anything happening, and Mila  _ knew  _ this apartment was the one because the rooms were on opposite sides and she wouldn’t have to hear Otabek fucking Yuri.

Yuri snarled at her.

Otabek just looked at her blankly.

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


He’d somehow convinced Otabek to come out for celebratory drinks afterward. He’d never seen Otabek even tipsy before, and he wondered if he could coax him into drinking at least a little bit.

“I don’t really drink, Yura. I'm a lightweight. It's unbecoming.”

“Please? For me?” Yuri asked, shoving a shot glass full of vodka into his hands. Otabek looked down at it, then back up at Yuri.

“Only one,” Otabek had shouted back. Over the music and the crowd. Over the cheering of Mila who had already downed at least four shots in the time it had taken Yuri to get Otabek to take one.

It wasn’t just one. Otabek kept up with Yuri, knocking back shots like he had been doing it for years.

“Why don’t you drink?” Yuri had asked, pressed close to Otabek. Shouting in his ear.

Otabek had shrugged. Something about losing his composure and it made him weary. Or something.

Yuri was a little intoxicated.

Not so intoxicated that he wasn’t aware of his surroundings, but enough so that his senses were dulled and everything was fuzzy and happy and he found himself perched in Otabek’s lap towards the end of the night.

Mila waggled her eyebrows at him.

Yuri flipped her off.

Otabek just curled around him again and stuck his nose in Yuri’s nape.

Otabek was even more  _ touchy-feely _ when he drank.

He liked it.

He felt like it was Otabek’s way of saying  _ mine _ .

“Have you guys fucked yet?” Mila asked as if she were asking Yuri how he felt about the Patriots.

Yuri glared at her. Otabek lifted his head.

“I’ll take that as a no,” She replied, answering her own question. “Oh, is it because of that weird thing you do that makes Yuri drop to his knees like you’re the-”

Yuri cut her off by slapping his hand over her mouth.

Otabek had taken to shoving his face back into Yuri’s neck and tightening his grip.

“You’re so much more fucking nosy when you drink.”

“Well, I’m just looking out for you. It’s just weird that Otabek has zero interest in it. You should hurry up before Yuri goes and- Yeah. Okay don’t look at me like that, I’m shutting up.”

Yuri turned to see Otabek glaring at her. He’d never seen Otabek  _ glare _ at someone that wasn’t him. 

It kind of turned him on.

He had said that out loud and then resorted to changing the topic to how they were going to decorate their apartment.

He didn’t miss the nip Otabek gave him.

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


“I see why you don’t drink now,” Yuri said, tugging Otabek through the doorway. “You’re like normal you magnified times ten plus some extra moodiness.”

“I told you.”

“I thought you were going to castrate that waiter who touched my butt. It was an  _ accident _ , you monster.”

“You don’t  _ accidentally  _ touch someone’s butt,” Otabek said. He held onto Yuri’s hand even when Yuri tried to break free of his grasp. 

Yuri shoved Otabek onto the bed, crawling on top of him. It was like charging a battery, the way he felt when he pressed against Otabek.

He could feel Otabek’s heartbeat, loud and quick.

“I’m sorry that I told Mila things.”

“Don’t be.”

“I don’t complain about sex as often as she made it seem, I swear,” He wasn’t lying. He really didn’t. Even though Otabek hadn’t made any steps towards actual penetrative, shoving-his-cock-in-Yuri’s-ass  _ sex _ , Yuri was relatively satisfied.

He still wanted more, but for now, he was satisfied.

“Okay. I’m not mad, Yura.”

“I know but I just don’t want you to think that all I’m ever thinking about is sex because that’s not true. Like I really  _ really _ want it, but it’s not everything.”

“I know.”

“I still want to know why, though,” Yuri lifted his head. Otabek was staring at the ceiling, absently dragging his fingers through Yuri’s hair.

“I’ve told you.”

“That’s not what it is.”

Otabek sucked in a breath.

Yuri knew he was right.

“I want it to feel right.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to make love to you and I want it to mean something. I don’t want it to be something I’m doing because you  _ want _ it or  _ begged  _ for  it. I don’t want to control you and force you into things. It just doesn’t feel right yet.”

“Yeah. Okay, Otabek,” Yuri said quietly. He laid his head back down.

They were quiet for a long time until they both fell asleep.

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


“I have to leave for a little while, Yura,” Otabek said, fiddling with the coffee maker.

“For like a week?”

“A month.”

Yuri felt a pang in his chest at this, eyes fixating on Otabek’s back.

“Did you just say a fucking month?”

Otabek sighed. “I have to go to Spain. I have been putting off work to spend time with you.”

Yuri frowned. Poked at his pancakes and tried to will away the ice settling within him.

“What the hell am I supposed to do for a month?”

“You could come with me if you wanted.”

Yuri wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. He had obligations and an interview and an apartment to decorate.

“I can’t.”

Otabek looked crestfallen, but he kissed the tip of Yuri’s nose and promised that it wouldn’t be long. That it would go by quickly and he would call every day even if only to say goodnight.

“When are you leaving?” Yuri had asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“Tonight. I didn’t know until just before you woke up, I promise. I just have things I have to take care of and then I’ll come back to you, okay?”

Yuri glared up at him, but it didn’t last very long. Otabek looked so sad and worried and Yuri had just told him  _ okay _ .

He moped about it for the rest of the day, though.


	16. Chapter 16

The days moved slowly after that. Otabek’s absence made Yuri tense. Mila told him he was cranky, Yuri always responded with an icy glare.

Otabek really _did_ call every day. Telling Yuri exactly where he was. He didn’t stay in Spain the entire time, he moved around and told Yuri that new business ventures were exciting.

Yuri tried to sound interested, but the reality was that he was tired and he missed Otabek. He didn’t care about Spain or Italy or whatever other exotic places he visited.

He especially didn’t care when Otabek added a picture to Instagram. Him with another person, usually.

Yuri didn’t get jealous because that would be stupid.

In between finding furniture and setting up his new apartment, Yuri would wander back to Otabek’s.

He’d sit in Otabek’s closet, surrounded by his things, and just breathe.

It calmed him.

He would hide under Otabek’s blankets, curled into a ball on the bed.

 **Yuri** : I miss you.

 **Otabek** : I know, Yura.

 **Otabek** : I miss you too.

Yuri had taught Otabek how to sext. He even received a clip of Otabek masturbating and Yuri thought he was going to pass out.

The tension between them seemed even higher now that Otabek wasn't within reach.

The day Otabek came home couldn’t have come quick enough.

Yuri spent the entire day cooking, Mila instructing him on what to do because Yuri never cooked.

“I really wish you weren’t planning on making this entire thing disgusting because this food looks really good and I’m a little mad I can’t stay.”

“I mean you can, but I’m sure you’d rather not.”

“You’re right. I really don’t want to see your dick. As much as I enjoyed picking out some lingerie that I thought Otabek would enjoy I’m not down for that.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“I hope you guys at least eat the food. If you waste all this hard work I swear I’ll choke you both.”

 

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

 

Yuri pulled on the garter straps, tilting his head to the side. He never could figure out how those fucking things worked. He’d been fighting with the stockings for at least five minutes, and he was ready to rip the entire outfit into shreds when he managed to snap the second strap into place.

Yuri grinned.

The black lace of his lingerie contrasted the color of his skin. He knew he looked _hot_ , and if Otabek turned him down he was going to set everything on fire and then himself.

The click of the lock made him jump. He smoothed down his hair and stepped out of the bedroom just in time for Otabek to look up.

Yuri fidgeted with the lace on his stockings and nibbled on his lip.

“I’ve missed you,” He said, almost unsure of himself.

Otabek stood still in the doorway. Yuri noticed his eyes pathing over the length of his body. He felt very exposed. It made him even more nervous. As if Otabek were going to turn back around and leave without saying a word.

Then, he slammed the door shut.

In a few quick strides, he had Yuri pinned against the wall.

Yuri gasped. Otabek pressed into him.

“I’ve missed you too,” Otabek said, breath in Yuri’s ear. “Did you put this on just for me?”

Yuri nodded. Otabek’s eyes flickered. Yuri held his breath.

Otabek’s hand enveloped Yuri’s throat, pushing into it just barely. Yuri stared up at him, heart thrumming in his chest.

Otabek’s lips tickled Yuri’s briefly, like the touch of butterfly wings. Yuri closed his eyes, no longer able to handle the feeling of Otabek’s gaze. It was fire and ice, burning into Yuri with a primal intensity that Yuri had never seen. He’d caught flickers of it from time to time, but right then, at that moment, it burned the strongest.

Yuri melted into it, allowing Otabek to grab him by the hips, shoving him back into the wall. Their bodies were flush, every inch of Yuri _covered_ in Otabek.

This is what he had wanted. What he had dreamt about over the month when he was alone in Otabek’s bed.

Otabek kissed him again, the eagerness and hunger pouring between them. His tongue was gentle, despite the delicious pain emanating from his hips where Otabek held on.

Yuri didn’t want gentle. He didn’t want the soft, pliant kisses.

His arms reached behind Otabek, hands pressing against the back of his head. He tried to pull Otabek closer, but they were already close enough for Yuri to feel his heartbeat.

“Yuri,” Otabek whispered.

“Please,” Yuri whispered back. He knew what Otabek was going to say.

Not this time. He was _not_ going to let Otabek walk away from this.

Otabek didn’t respond. Yuri felt as though he were going to shatter between Otabek’s firm body and the wall behind his back. The force and the pressure made him dizzy with lust.

His head leaned back against the wall, Otabek’s lips trailing down his porcelain skin. He felt gooseflesh rise in their wake, fingers clenching in Otabek’s hair.

Otabek nipped at the pulse in Yuri’s neck, sucking on it before running his tongue over it.

The most pathetic, squeaky sound tumbled from Yuri’s lips.

Otabek carried Yuri into the bedroom, dropping him down onto the mattress.

Yuri watched Otabek loosen his tie and toss it to the side before he crawled over Yuri.

It was all lips and tongue, teeth and way too much spit. It was an urgency that Otabek usually held down, hidden and unnoticeable.

It was noticeable now, though.

Yuri fumbled with the buttons on Otabek’s shirt, reminiscent of every other time he had done exactly that. This time though, he knew what would happen next.

Otabek shrugged it off, and Yuri’s hands mapped the length of his arms. He felt every muscle, every twitch as Otabek held himself up over Yuri.

“God, I fucking love you,” Yuri hissed, the moment Otabeks mouth had found his nipple. He’d shoved the lacey fabric down, a strap sliding absently from Yuri’s shoulder.

He struggled to unbutton Otabek’s pants, the button slipping from his fingers. He was nervous, fingers trembling.

This was _actually_ happening.

“You’re too desperate,” Otabek said lowly, mouth mere inches from his. “Slowly, Yura. Calm down. I’m not going anywhere.”

Otabek ordered Yuri to put his arms over his head, so he did.

Otabek’s hands ran down the lace kissing Yuri’s sides, down until he reached the expanse of skin between the top and his stockings. He fingered at the garter straps, eyes flitting up to catch Yuri’s.

“Do you like it?” Yuri asked, shifting, but not moving his hands from where they lay, palms up, over his head.

Otabek’s fingers caught on the thin string of Yuri’s panties.

“You’re very sexy, Yura.”

Yuri preened.

Feather-light touches of Otabek’s fingers trailed down his calves before he grabbed hold of Yuri’s ankles and bent his legs, forcing them back up towards Yuri’s chest.

Otabek turned his head, pressing a kiss against Yuri’s knee. Then another on his calf, then one on his foot, nuzzling the fabric of his stockings.

Then he crouched down. He tugged Yuri’s thong to the side and licked Yuri’s hole.

_Speaking of desperate._

Yuri’s fingers twitched. They itched to grab Otabek’s hair, to feel the soft locks between them. He knew better though, he knew that Otabek would force them to stay in place if he had to.

So Yuri kept them to himself.

Kept them to himself as Otabek folded him in half, tongue dragging slowly from his hole to his balls.

Yuri couldn’t see his face, but he could feel where his hands were splayed over his cheeks, spreading them apart. He was open and ready, on display for Otabek in a way he had never been before.

Yuri wanted to scream for Otabek to just _fuck him already_ , but the rough drag of his tongue was the only thing he could focus on.

He circled Yuri’s hole with his tongue without dipping inside, and the scratch of the beard he had grown out just a little in his absence was _delicious_.

Yuri felt the dull ache in his thighs from holding them to his chest for so long, but he pushed that away. He pushed it away and sucked on Otabek’s fingers when he told him to. Swirled his tongue around the digits and gazed at Otabek with hooded eyes. He knew he looked absolutely destroyed, mewling when Otabek pulled his fingers from his lips.

Then there was the pressure of Otabek sliding his finger in, filling Yuri in a way that was pleasant but not enough.

Then another finger, then another. Until he was knuckles deep inside Yuri, hovering over him to make sure he was okay.

He whispered in Yuri’s ear, Yuri nodding along with every question of _does this feel good?_ And _is this okay_?

Every time Otabek’s fingers bumped against his prostate, Yuri saw stars.

 _Holy shit, right there_.

Otabek hummed and made sure to brush against it again, Yuri’s eyes rolling back in his head.

Yuri felt empty when Otabek pulled his fingers out, leaning over Yuri to grab a bottle of lube from the inside of his nightstand.

Yuri wanted to ask why he had it, but he was too focused on the way Otabek was undoing his pants.

Otabek leaned over him again, pressing quick kisses to Yuri’s lips.

“If you don’t fuck me I swear I’m going to do it myself and make you watch.”

Otabek laughed a low, throaty, melodious thing. It calmed Yuri’s nerves, but he still itched and tingled all over. Everywhere Otabek’s fingers had traced was on fire. _He_ was on fire.

Otabek jerked above him, toeing off his shoes. He was naked when he sat back on his knees. Yuri’s eyes moved down his body, stopping on his cock.

He licked his lips while Otabek stroked it, slicking it with lube. He spread the rest over Yuri’s hole, dipping his fingers inside before he pressed against Yuri again.

“Are you okay?” Otabek asked, one hand holding his cock in place, the head of it bumping against Yuri’s hole. His other hand brushed stray strands of hair from Yuri’s face.

He looked genuinely concerned. Yuri swallowed.

He’d had sex before. This wasn’t going to be his first time. He had that a long time ago. Yet it felt like his first time, the nervous energy fluttering between them like loose electricity. It was tangible. Yuri was on edge with the way Otabek crouched over him, so close, but not close enough.

“I’m fine,” Yuri said quietly, arms wrapping around Otabek’s neck. “I’m _great_.”

Otabek rested his forehead against Yuri’s. They breathed together, Yuri trying to soothe Otabek’s shaking body as he pressed into him. Otabek’s breath hitched once their hips were flush.

His breath came out shaky and stuttered.

“You feel so good,” Otabek groaned, hands bracing on either side of Yuri’s head. His weight sank Yuri down into the mattress. Yuri dug his knees into Otabek’s sides, nudging him to move.

“Beka,” Yuri said quietly, hands drifting down Otabek’s chest, just enough space between them for Yuri to do so.

Otabek inhaled sharply before he pulled back, almost all the way out, hips snapping forward so quickly that Yuri’s body jerked up the bed.

“ _Beka,_ ” Yuri gasped, Otabek shifting so his weight was no longer on him. His pupils were wide, hair dropping into his face. Yuri gazed at him, watching him. “More.”

Otabek obliged, sitting back on his knees. He grabbed Yuri’s legs, gripping the backs of his knees before he began to thrust. It was slow at first, gentle, Otabek trying to get used to the feel of _Yuri_ all around him. Swallowing him, sucking at him.

Yuri relished the way Otabek bit his lip, lost in the throes of his pleasure.

“You’re so good Beka, filling me up,” Yuri said quietly. His fingers gripped at the bedsheets on either side of his head, trying to steady his body as Otabek fucked him down into the mattress.

It was _so good_ , the slap of their skin as Otabek tried to find the bundle of nerves that made Yuri’s head spin.

It was still too slow for Yuri. Too gentle, too tentative.

“ _Fuck me_ ,” Yuri hissed, fingers dimpling the skin of Otabek’s shoulders.

Otabek opened his eyes, and Yuri thought he was going to be swept away with the hurricane.

Otabek had Yuri’s wrists pinned above his head so quickly that he almost didn’t notice. Yuri huffed, arching his back. Otabek had slowed his thrusts.

He was moving painfully slow, sliding in and out. In, then out.

Then he stopped, pulling his cock out.

“You’re a fucking tease, Otabek.”

Otabek smiled. It was devious. Yuri squirmed.

Otabek kissed his nose, then his lips. Kissed Yuri’s chin, then down his chest.

“Be a good boy and let daddy take care of you,” Otabek said quietly, tongue running over the very tip of Yuri’s cock.

Yuri was really going to get him back for latching onto his obvious daddy fetish.

Later.

Otabek’s cock filled him back up, Yuri’s back arching up with the pleasure.

He felt every thrust, every brush of Otabek’s cock against his prostate.

Otabek’s arms encased Yuri, holding onto him as he growled Yuri’s name before he came deep inside of him.

His hand stroked Yuri’s cock, stuck in between their sweating bodies, Yuri nearly crying as he spilled between them.

Otabek dropped his weight on Yuri, his breaths shallow. Yuri could feel his heart pattering in his chest as he dragged his fingers along Otabek’s back.

Otabek shuddered but made no attempt to move.

“Are you sure you were a virgin?” Yuri asked, gently kicking at Otabek’s leg.

Otabek mumbled something against Yuri’s neck.

“That was-” Yuri paused, feeling the ache in his hips and his ass and his wrists. “Fucking amazing, can we do that again?”

Otabek lifted his head, staring at Yuri incredulously.

“I’m kidding.”

He touched Otabek’s face, feeling the warmth blossom in his chest.

“I love you. Welcome home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEY DID ITTTTTTTTTTTT.
> 
> I've waited all my life for this moment wow.
> 
> Also you can have this.
> 
>  
> 
> Mika:  
> OH HELL I FORGOT THAT WAS HIS FIRST TIME WTF  
> LOL  
> HOW MUCH PORNHUB DID YOU WATCH  
> BEKA
> 
> LeCheesie:  
> probably a lot  
> I like to imagine that he watched a lot of it. like "oh yes, okay, I do that. nice."
> 
> Mika:  
> LOL  
> taking notes  
> not just mental notes either  
> like he had an outline  
> "Ok so I shove him against the wall...then my right hand will go there..."  
> him in glasses with a detective-like wall with pinned notes that he can move around  
> figuring out the order of operations
> 
> LeCheesie:  
> https://i.imgur.com/UaLpJOK.png


	17. Chapter 17

Yuri woke early in the morning to Otabek curled around him. He yawned and squirmed in his arms, giggling when Otabek’s very obvious erection rubbed between his cheeks.

“Yura,” Otabek mumbled, voice riddled with sleep. Yuri could get used to hearing that - the soft rasp of his low voice in the mornings.

“Mm?” Yuri asked, wiggling again. Otabek groaned and pressed against Yuri, his cock sliding against Yuri’s skin. “Do you want some help with that?”

Otabek’s eyes were still closed as Yuri rolled over, lips parting when Yuri wrapped his fingers around his cock. It was quick and easy, sliding their lengths together between his hands until they both came. Otabek bit into Yuri’s shoulder as Yuri saw stars. 

“Can we do that every morning?” Yuri mused, attempting to catch his breath while Otabek nuzzled into his neck. His lips had never felt better, brushing along his collarbone with little flicks of his tongue. “Unfortunately I think your sheets need to be cleaned now.”

Otabek grumbled against his neck until Yuri finally dragged him from the bed. They showered together, Yuri’s fingers working through Otabek’s hair as Otabek tried to kiss along his throat. Yuri mumbled something about Otabek turning into a sex fiend, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it.

Yuri would never be sated with Otabek around.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

 

“I can look at the two of you and know you definitely had sex,” Mila mused, running her finger over the rim of her coffee cup.

Yuri gave her a warning glare, but she just grinned at him. Otabek blushed furiously, tightening his grip on his mug.

“Let’s not talk about our sex life over coffee,” Yuri replied, hand reaching out for Otabek’s. He squeezed it until Otabek squeezed back.

“Did you guys at least make the dinner I worked so hard to make?”

Yuri glanced at Otabek, then over at Mila. “No, sorry.”

Mila rolled her eyes, but Yuri knew she wasn’t angry. They’d known each other long enough for Yuri to know that. It was still fun listening to her scold Otabek about wasting food. Scold him for devouring Yuri instead of something actually edible.

Yuri stared at Otabek as he tried to defend himself, face flushed with embarrassment. Mila was picking on him, taunting grin on her face. Yuri wanted to interrupt it, but the face Otabek was making had his heart melting.

He really, really loved Otabek. More than he had ever loved anyone or anything. He’d never known that it was possible to love something so much that it hurt, but now that he had Otabek, he knew.

“I like you,” Mila had said, smiling brightly.

Otabek just smiled at her, squeezing Yuri’s hand again.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

 

Yuri swung his legs where they dangled over the countertop. He watched Otabek as he made them dinner, complementing the way his apron made him look.

He only did it because the tips of Otabek’s ears turned scarlet. Because the smile that flitted across his lips made Yuri weak in the knees. His love was overbearing to the point that his heart ached with it, full and bubbling over.

Otabek turned off the stove and moved towards Yuri, who dipped his head down to press their lips together. Otabek gripped the counter top on either side of him as he slipped between Yuri’s knees. Their kiss was soft and slow, and Yuri curled his fingers into Otabek’s hair.

“I love you,” Otabek whispered, breath fanning over Yuri’s lips.

“I love you.”

Yuri could get used to this domestic bullshit.

After dinner, Otabek laid Yuri down on the bed, flat on his stomach. Yuri anticipated something other than what he received, which was the gentle rub of Otabek’s hands over his shoulders. He pushed Yuri’s shirt up until Yuri moved to pull it off. Yuri groaned when he kneaded into his muscles, every touch scorching his skin.

“Beautiful,” Otabek murmured as he pressed wet kisses along the curve of Yuri’s spine. His arms wrapped around Yuri before he rutted against him, just once, so Yuri could  _ feel _ how beautiful Otabek thought he was.

Yuri moaned, a freakishly high pitched thing, laced with his raw desire. His skin felt sensitive and tender after Otabek’s ministrations.

Otabeks’ fingers tugged at the elastic waistband of his sweatpants until Yuri lifted himself so they could be pulled down his legs. Along with his briefs until he was naked and bare. His cock dug into the mattress with his body weight, the cool air raising the hairs on his skin.

Deft fingers rubbed into the curve of his lower back, pressing into his spine until Yuri let out a soft moan. Every touch of Otabek’s fingers, every rub into his muscles had Yuri’s eyes rolling back in his head. 

Every inch of Yuri felt relaxed, swarmed with pleasure and relief when Otabek’s hands began to knead his cheeks. He spread them apart slowly and cleared his throat. Yuri tried to rub himself into the bed, wanting so desperately to feel his release. His cock was hard,  _ so  _ hard. Otabek was taking his time, though. He was torturing Yuri but Yuri  _ loved _ it.

“So good for daddy,” Otabek whispered, the heat of his breath causing Yuri’s hole to tighten. Yuri whimpered. He was too lost in a haze to be embarrassed that Otabek knew what he wanted.

Otabek ravished him with his tongue, lapped over Yuri’s hole and around it, but never in it. He didn’t touch it, either, his hands still slowly kneading his cheeks.

“ _ Please _ ,” Yuri gasped, unable to take the punishment. Unable to handle the soft flick of Otabek’s tongue over his hole.

“Please what?” Otabek asked, swatting Yuri’s ass. Yuri’s body jerked with the motion, but the heat and the sharp pain of it made him shudder.

“Please,  _ daddy _ ,” Yuri breathed. Otabek rewarded him with another quick slap.

Yuri sobbed at the pleasure. At the pain. At how Otabek began to rub it before he kissed it tenderly.

“Good boy,” Otabek responded.

His cheeks were spread, then Otabek was thrusting his tongue inside of him. Yuri’s toes curled as he gripped the sheets, gasping out a load of profanities while Otabek ate him out relentlessly. His tongue was quick and practiced as if he had already mapped exactly where Yuri liked to be touched. 

When his fingers slid inside, Yuri saw stars. Rubbing over his prostate, Yuri cursed and buried his face into the blanket. He was met with a quick slap to his ass again, Otabek growling that he wanted to hear Yuri.

“You’re so tight,” Otabek whispered before his tongue began to drag over Yuri’s hole, around his fingers. The pleasure had Yuri toppling over the edge, his hips thrusting into the bed to seek release. He chased after it, but the minute he was close enough to grab it, Otabek stopped.

Yuri whined. Otabek spanked him again. Yuri cried out because his ass was sore and it hurt but  _ god it felt so fucking good _ .

Otabek flipped him over then, hunched over him with that annoyingly sexy lock of hair over his forehead. Yuri reached up to touch it, but Otabek turned his face and kissed the palm of his hand. Yuri smiled, feeling the warmth blossom in his chest.

This man was  _ his _ .

Yuri pulled at the buttons on Otabek’s shirt, fingers fumbling with his overeagerness. Otabek didn’t make any attempt to help him though, his eyes dropping to watch as Yuri struggled.

“You like teasing me in the weirdest ways,” Yuri mumbled, but there was no annoyance in his words. 

Buttons conquered, Otabek slipped the shirt from his shoulders, dropping it off the edge of the bed. Yuri’s eyes ran over his skin, mapping every inch of it with his gaze before his fingers. When he thumbed over Otabek’s nipples, the sound that fell from Otabek’s open mouth sent a shock of electricity through him that went straight to his dick.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Yuri whispered. Otabek smiled and nosed the side of his face.

A trail of wet kisses were peppered over Yuri’s neck, down his chest. Yuri’s eyes widened when Otabek hovered over his cock, tongue darting out to lick the tip of it.

“Oh my God,” Yuri gushed. “Yes,  _ please, yes _ .”

Otabek looked up at Yuri, those thick eyelashes fluttering. Yuri held his breath. Otabek swallowed him with one fell swoop. There were too many teeth, but Yuri didn’t care. The sounds Otabek made as he sucked Yuri’s cock made his head spin.

He clutched at Otabek’s hair, trying so desperately not to thrust into his mouth. It was an urge that was hard to repress, as he tried to seek more.  _ More _ , he moaned.

Then Otabek was caressing his balls and Yuri was gone. His orgasm rolled over him in waves, hips bucking as he sought the deepest part of Otabek’s mouth. As those plush lips suctioned around him and milked him dry.

“Holy shit,” Yuri breathed, eyes focusing to see Otabek with cum dripping from the sides of his mouth. Yuri’s mouth watered before he pulled him up, over him. He ran his tongue over Otabek’s mouth, licking off the remnants of his own orgasm.

Yuri followed the taste, sucking Otabek’s tongue with vigor. Otabek hummed and kissed Yuri’s forehead, holding it for a few moments until Yuri caught his breath.

“You taste good,” Otabek rumbled, close to Yuri’s ear. Yuri shivered from the tickle of his breath.

Yuri wrapped his arms around Otabek, scraping his nails down the length of his back. He felt his cock slowly hardening again, once Otabek had begun to nibble at his earlobe. 

Otabek reached down between them, head tipping down onto Yuri’s shoulder as he undid his belt. He bent Yuri’s legs back, holding them with bruising fingers. Yuri sighed when the tip of his cock rubbed over his hole. He was sensitive all over, down to the tips of his toes, but when Otabek pushed inside of him he thought he was going to fall apart. It was too much. He was too sensitive. He almost tried to push Otabek off, but he wanted it so badly.

Otabek’s cock rubbed over his prostate, slowly, carefully. Yuri felt the tears form in his eyes, reaching out for Otabek. He wanted him closer. He moved, crouching over Yuri until he was nearly folded in half. Yuri gasped when he sank deeper, their gaze hot and heavy.

Otabek captured Yuri’s wrists, trapping them above his head. His other hand grasped Yuri’s face, holding it steady so that Yuri was unable to turn away. Yuri felt a blush rise over his skin from the intensity of it. From the intensity of Otabek’s brutal thrusts, the slap of their skin noisy in the otherwise quiet room.

The bed creaked beneath them, headboard slamming against the wall with every push of Otabek’s body against his own. Yuri felt and heard  _ everything _ \- as if his senses were turned up way too high. His hips ached as he tried to hold them back, Otabek fucking him into the mattress as he stared down at Yuri. 

Yuri’s mouth hung open, the moans and gasps that flew from his lips met with a growl from Otabek. 

“ _ Beka _ ,” Yuri gasped, trying to fight against the force of his hand on his wrists. Otabek didn’t let him go though, neither the hand holding his face nor the hand on his wrists loosened their grasp. 

Every thrust had Yuri’s entire body moving, every jerk of it making him whine. 

“Come, Yura,” Otabek gritted, the commanding tone of his voice forcing Yuri to do just that. He came with his cock untouched, body tensing with the impact of his second orgasm. He came over his chest, over his stomach.

Otabek didn’t slow his thrusts, but he let go of Yuri’s wrists, let go of his face. His hands moved to Yuri’s legs as he sat back on his haunches. He paused, eyes focused on Yuri’s face before he moved again, fucking Yuri  _ up  _ the bed. Yuri was even more sensitive than before, his cries falling on deafened ears. Otabek wasn’t going to stop, he chased his orgasm deep inside of Yuri.

When he came, Yuri sobbed. He was numb all over, his body tired and sore and overly sensitive. His cock dripped against his stomach while Otabek’s hips stuttered. He felt the warmth of his release, felt it slide from his hole when Otabek pulled out.

Then Otabek was on him, covering him with his weight, his warmth. He peppered kisses over Yuri’s face, down his neck, over his chest. He whispered that Yuri was beautiful and perfect, and Yuri felt himself relaxing with every word of praise.

Otabek flipped them to their sides, pulling Yuri close to his chest. Yuri listened to the sound of his heart, to the ragged breathing that blew from his lips. 

Fuck, he loved Otabek.

He said just that, face buried against his chest.

“I love you, Yura.”

And God, how his heart  _ soared _ .

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


Years later, after opening Christmas presents with Yuri’s family:

“I want one,” Yuri said, heart swelling as he watched his niece roll around on the floor with her new toys.

“A kid?” Otabek asked, eyebrows raised.

“A cat,” Yuri replied, a grin plastered on his face.

“How does my child make you think of a cat?” Yulian asked, hand pressed against the swell of his wife’s stomach.

“She doesn’t. I just don’t think I can take care of a child. So I want a cat.”

“We’ll talk about it,” Otabek grumbled, lips pressed against Yuri’s temple.

Yuri fiddled with the ring on his finger, giggling when the scruff on Otabek’s chin rubbed over his skin.

He had never been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I apologize for not updating for a week or so, I have been updating my other fic Night and Day, and got caught up.. And I didn't want to end this one just yet. But here we are ;-;)
> 
> I will miss this story something fierce. I had a lot of ideas thrown my way from various people the entire way through and I just want to say thank you.  
> Thank you to everyone who took the time to comment and leave kudos.  
> Thank you to everyone who reached out to me about this fic for whatever reason.  
> Thank you for the overwhelming support and to those of you who stuck around even when I hadn't updated for a year.
> 
> Just, thank you. <3
> 
> SEE YOU NEXT LEVEL!


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